


Locked in a Vault

by VerityGrahams



Series: Nautical Ship Challenge [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Adultery, Bigotry & Prejudice, Character Death, Draco Malfoy & Ron Weasley Friendship, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Lucius Malfoy, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, POV Multiple, Past Tense, Redeemed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:13:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23665189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerityGrahams/pseuds/VerityGrahams
Summary: Hermione reflects on the events that lead up to her biggest mistake and the lie that she will have to live with for the rest of her life."I never intended for it to happen, but that’s what they all say, isn’t it? After all, no one intends to cheat with their husband's father."
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy, Lavender Brown & Draco Malfoy, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy & Severus Snape
Series: Nautical Ship Challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1267337
Comments: 152
Kudos: 163





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lun27](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lun27/gifts).



> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter
> 
> Written for the Nautical Ship Challenge
> 
> Plausible Canon: Lucius Malfoy and Hermione Granger - H.M.S. Flawless Locks
> 
> Prompts:
> 
> [Plot Point] Locked in  
> [Object] A piece of jewelry 
> 
> Written for Writeaholics Discord Server - PM if you want to join a server where the communities focus is helping one another to improve our writing.
> 
> Smut Vs Plot Challenge  
>    
> Wordcount: 3211
> 
> Gift fic for Lun < 3

Locked in the Vault 

I never intended for it to happen, but that’s what they all say, isn’t it? After all, no one intends to cheat with their husband's father. It’s not as if Draco had done anything to deserve it; he had given me everything I could want; companionship, adoration, stimulating conversation. I certainly wasn’t dissatisfied in the bedroom. I wasn't dissatisfied with him. I love him, but I did this. 

It started with a lot of little things, and one very big thing. Narcissa had taken very ill, and as I am Hermione Granger-Malfoy, Head Healer at St Mungo’s, we decided to move to the mansion. I left my job, and I took care of her every day. I tended to my distraught husband’s dying mother, and I watched as she slowly slipped away. Every day she got weaker, and I found myself tending more and more to Lucius. He had needed it. Contrary to popular belief, their marriage was not one of convenience. He was broken at her passing.

The more time I spent with him, the more I saw the furiously passionate heart beating beneath that cold Slytherin exterior. He adored her, doted on her, and he withered just as she did. When she passed away it hurt Lucius more than anything else, so that’s why I didn’t go back to the job I adored.

It hurt Draco, too, but in a different way. The man I loved closed himself off to his family and dived headfirst into work. If there was a reason to be out of the house, away from the memories of his mother, he would take it. Lucius and I, we had each other. 

That was when I noticed the little things. He had a hidden love of romantic fiction, and I would sit by his bed and read to him; it calmed him like nothing else. He came out of his shell more and more then. That’s when I noticed his dry sense of humour. We would walk through the gardens, one of the only physical exertions I could get him into, and he would tell me stories. Everything came through his cynical, sarcastic lense. I know what you’re thinking, that he hadn’t changed, and somehow I believed I could change him. It’s not true. He _had_ changed; he looked down on his own choices, he mocked his own politics.

Lucius Malfoy is a moral man, he just didn’t know it before.

I’m not sure what led to the affair that followed. After all, we were both pining for someone else.

It started with innocent linking of arms as we walked through the garden. He would brush my hair out of my face. The touches became less and less harmless to the point where we knew we hadn’t crossed the line yet but that it was a genuine possibility. That led us to today.

Draco had woken me early. I woke with his lips pressed to mine, and before long, my fingers were running through his white locks. For so long I had wanted this, his closeness, his embrace. I wanted it to feel like it had before, but he was still so distant.

I found myself wondering what it would feel like if it were longer. He stripped me of my thin nightgown, and I was all too eager to remove his boxers. I had craved his touch for so long, and so I was eager, eager to remove the image of another man from my mind. I was eager to rekindle our marriage.

I wrapped my hand around him, and he was ready to go, and his deft fingers had me whimpering for more before long. We made passionate love, and I cried out in pleasure twice before he was finished. 

‘Stay home,’ I said as we lay in the afterglow, pulling him back to the bed. It had felt so good and there was the promise, the hope of something real. Lucius, at that moment, was not in the forefront of my mind.

He pulled away, a smile on his face, as though he hadn’t a care in the world. ‘I can’t; believe it or not, we aren’t endlessly rich. With Father out of action, someone needs to bring in the galleons. This estate costs a lot.’ 

I shouldn't have been surprised, and I shouldn't have been hurt. This was the choice he always made, even on a Sunday. 

I watched as he got up and left me alone, wrapped in silk sheets. He had his back to me; it was so sculpted, his pale skin utterly unblemished, and he began to cover it all up. He pulled on a crisp white shirt. He turned around, and I was able to see my husband in all his glory. His chest was muscular, and my eyes travelled down his abs to those lines that made my insides gooey. 

He smirked at me as he got dressed, slowly covering more and more of himself. He had left me, he was sated and went to work in his crisp back robes. I lay there, still wanting, but knowing I would need to shower and start the day with Lucius. Already I found myself feeling the thrill of dressing for my father-in-law.

I could be earning money, very good money, at the hospital. Draco believed that Lucius still needed me, and he didn’t want to lose the progress that I had made. I couldn’t help thinking that I had betrayed him already, although, nothing had happened… yet. 

* * *

Lucius and I sit down for breakfast. I had forced myself to sit opposite him for fear that I would reach out when I ought not to. I hadn’t even buttered my toast when I felt his leg brush mine under the table. I thought about moving away, but instead, my foot found its way up my father-in-law's leg. It was so much more than we had ever dared before. I looked up from my breakfast, and my eyes met his. 

I swallowed hard. He was and still is so intense, so sharp, handsome and strong. His long silver hair was just a little out of place. His piercing blue eyes, but then my focus went to his lips. They had a touch of pink to them and seemed to stand out against his pale skin. The corner of his mouth twitched, almost making it a smile. My heart was thumping in my chest, I didn’t know what had gotten into me, and I recoiled. 

‘I wondered if you would come into the cellar with me today?’ he asked.

‘The cellar? The hidden cellar?’

‘Yes, but don’t worry; your dear friend, Potter, cleared it out years ago. There’s nothing scary there.’ He smiled and his left eyebrow quivered, a sign of his amusement. ‘It simply holds a vault, and inside the vault are some things that I–’ his voice cracked, and his eyes returned to his meal.

‘Lucius, what is it? You know I won’t hold anything against you.’ 

‘It’s nothing like that,’ he said, his voice barely managed a whisper. ‘There are things— items that b— belonged to…’

‘Narcissa?’ I asked, and when he nodded my heart all but broke. 

It’s moments like that, that make me stay at home. He was still deeply hurt, and I couldn’t never leave him to wallow in his pain alone. 

‘If you can manage it,’ I said, giving him a way out if he needed it. ‘We can go right after breakfast, but we could go for a walk first, if you’d like. We should check if the grounds-men have been caring for the peacocks.’

‘What was the Muggle phrase: “Rip it off like a band-aid”? Why band-aid?’ he asked, poking fun at something always made him feel more comfortable in his vulnerability. 

‘“Band-aid” is an American-ism, and the British just adopted it, I guess.’

‘Well, like a band-aid. I think we need to get it over with and then we can check on the wretched peacocks.’

We said no more as we ate in silence. Soon enough, the plates disappeared. Lucius hired a house-elf that was willing to be paid, just to set my mind at ease. He was always far more thoughtful than anyone gave him credit for. That was when we headed down to the vault. 

I don’t know what I had expected, but it wasn’t the walk-in vault that he had. Being in the cellar was as hard for me as it was for him. He knew what it reminded me of: Ron and Harry captured, and me having my arm carved into by Bellatrix. I trembled as we walked down the steps. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. His hand took mine, lifting it, and there you could see my souvenir from his sister-in-law: _“Mudblood”_. ‘Deeply.’ His soft pink lips touched my scarred arm. 

I didn’t pull away. Maybe that was a mistake, but it was sweet, gentle, loving. I wondered, _how can this be bad?_ His tongue caressed the letters that were engraved in my arm, and a shiver ran down my spine. My other hand tangles in his hair — much longer than Draco’s — and I didn’t know if I was pulling him off or towards me. 

‘Lucius.’ The words slipped out of my mouth, something in between a moan and plea to stop. He seemed to think it was the latter, because he moved away. 

‘I’m sorry… completely inappropriate.’ His hand, however, was still holding mine.

‘It’s okay.’ I interlaced my fingers with his. ‘We both know we can’t. We both know there’s a line and crossing it—’

‘— would break Draco’s heart.’

‘Exactly.’ 

His hand, so much larger than my own, caressed my face, cupping my cheek. ‘I promise it won’t happen again.’ 

That was when his lips touched mine. Gentle and chaste, like a goodbye kiss; something that would never happen again. And I thought it wouldn’t. Awkwardly, we moved to the vault, careful not to touch each other again. 

The large vault had swung open; it only opened at the request of Lucius’ wand. He placed the wand on a side table, and we walked inside the vault. There was a vast array of books and heirlooms. Still, Lucius led me to the back, which was predominantly housing some of the most beautiful jewellery that I had ever seen. 

‘These were Narcissa’s,’ he explained. ‘I wanted to move most of them to Gringotts; it’s too hard having them in the house.’

‘They are stunning.’ My fingers trembled as they caressed a delicate diamond necklace. 

‘That one belonged to my namesake.’ Lucius smiled, but it wasn’t a happy one; it was almost mocking. ‘That was the one piece I wanted to keep, or rather, give away.’

‘How can you keep it and give it away?’ I asked, a laugh tried to ease the tension that we were both trying to ignore.

‘There’s a story behind that necklace. My namesake lived quite some time ago and was actually at the court of Queen Elizabeth I.’

‘Wow, are you saying the Royal Family were, or _are,_ magical?’

Lucius laughed. ‘No, we Malfoy’s weren’t always so prejudiced as we have been in recent times. We have always had exceptional taste though, and Lucius took a liking to Elizabeth, but, just like you, she would always be out of reach.’

I glanced at the jewellery, it’s history giving it far more meaning, making it far more beautiful. It was more delicate and ornate than most of the other items, items worn by Narcissa. White gold and minute flowers with blossoming pink diamonds. It was a work of art.

‘You see, like my namesake, I know I cannot have the one that I want. I just pray that she will consent to take a gift that will remind her of me and the affection I will never be able to show.’

‘Lucius, I— I can’t, it’s beautiful, so expensive, the history in that necklace. I cannot take that from you.’

‘Please! One day I will pass away, and all this will belong to you and Draco anyway. If I cannot have you, please wear this. If you wear them, I’ll feel sure you hold a part of me in your heart.’

That was when the door slammed shut. 

The sound of it shook me up, but worse, we were surrounded by darkness. His arms had wrapped around me instantly. It’s not that I needed it, but I didn’t feel alone in his arms, and that was a comfort. 

‘Let me get my wand.’ I pulled it out, and soon there was a small orb of light hanging between us. 

The light illuminated the delicate necklace that now represented a love that could not be. It meant more now. It meant that Lucius acknowledged that there was something real here, something he wanted and knew he couldn’t have. He seemed to understand; I didn’t have to accept it, and so he placed it around my neck and the clasp locked. 

‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll have to let us out,’ he whispered, almost as though we were two teenagers trapped in a broom closet at Hogwarts, doing things we ought not to be doing. ‘The door—’

‘—only responds to your wand, I remember.’ 

I was anxious to get out. Our moment in the vault, it acknowledged a burning desire we both had but knew we couldn’t act on. In the vault, it was real. He asked me to shine my light on the shelves; his wand wasn’t in his pocket. I knew we wouldn’t find it; he’d put it down. 

‘It’s outside the vault,’ I said breathlessly.’

The vault felt much smaller then, hotter. It was stifling. The little ball of light showed a face in torment. We didn’t do anything for some time. We talked as we often did. Eventually, we sat together on the floor, his arm around me. 

It was I that made the first move. I remember it as clear as day. He made a joke, an obscene joke. I started to feel hot and removed my outer robes; underneath I wore a silk shirt, the buttons coming undone, and I saw his eyes flicker down to my breasts. I knew they would. I would be lying if I said I didn’t. 

‘Fuck it.’

That’s when he pulled me towards him, and our lips met. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped or the way my hands immediately moved to the buttons of his shirt. I needed to feel him against me. His hands grasped the silk shirt and ripped it from my body, and his lips were like fire, trailing down my neck. He laid me on the floor, and my back arched as he continued the trail to my breasts. 

I admit, I was an active participant. I pulled open his shirt as I spread my legs, pulling him close enough for me to feel just how much he wanted this. He wanted it as much as I did. 

‘Hermione,’ he said, moaning as I began to grind against him, ‘take off your panties.’

Breathlessly, I obeyed his command eagerly. My slender legs wanting to pull him deeper to me, inside me. Lucius, however, had other ideas. His firm hands cupped my breasts, his stark white skin against my tanned chest was mesmerising. His fingers massaged and caressed me until I was a puddle of want and need. His lips continued to move southwards; all the while, his eyes never left mine.

Gently, he eased my legs apart, and with a look of hunger, he whispered, ‘May I?’

I swallowed, knowing this was, and would always be, my choice, and that there was most certainly no way I could explain this to Draco anymore. That from the moment I answered this question, I was undeniably an active participant. My response would tell him exactly what my desire was and that I had every intention of acting upon it. 

‘Yes.’ 

As his face dropped lower and he kissed me more intimately than anyone can be kissed, a scream erupted. My hands went straight to the long white locks between my legs as I could not help but move with his talented tongue. Each of Lucius’ arms wrapped around each of my thighs, giving him more and more access; as I climaxed, he took every last bit of my orgasm like a man starved. 

It’s funny how reserved and nervous you can be one moment and the next you’re stripping your father-in-law's trousers and holding him intimately. I worked his length as I guided his hands to my soft folds. His other hand cups my face, and pulled me closer. He nibbled on my bottom lip, begging for entrance. I could only whimper and moan in delight. 

I am the one that ended up taking us all the way. He didn’t even ask, and neither did I. I pushed him down on the floor of the vault, wearing nothing but the necklace that his namesake had tried to give a queen over four hundred years ago. I straddled him, easing him into me. It didn’t take long for us both to come undone. That was when reality hit. 

The first thing I did was grasp my shirt and underwear and frantically dress. Lucius did the same. A litany of apologies tumbled from his lips, which I could now only think of as instruments of the greatest pleasure I had ever known. 

‘No, don’t,’ I said, ‘I wanted this too.’

Lucius looked down, and as he tucked his crisp shirt into his back trousers, his brow furrowed. ‘Past tense already,’ he said. 

‘I _want_ this, but you and I both know we can’t do this again.’ Tears stung my eyes, and my lips trembled. ‘Look at me!’

He lifted his head, and I saw the pain. ‘I know,’ he said as he fastened his last button and arranged his tie. ‘I promise I’ll make this easier for you.’

‘For Draco,’ I said, I pulled him closer again, his forehead resting against mine. ‘I can’t hurt him; we can’t do this.’

‘Exactly, which is why that moral compass of yours needs to be put away. Particularly where this is concerned. You do not tell him anything, no matter what happens. Do you understand?’

I nodded. 

‘Do I need assurances?’ he asked.

‘No, I promise. Just kiss me one last time.’ Our lips met, but this time it was quick and shallow, like neither of us wanted to risk drowning once more. 

That was when the door creaked, and a House-elf let us out. The little creature was no wiser as to what had happened, and I took the jewels to Gringotts as requested. I didn’t expect what I would come home too. 

I had returned, and Draco was home. I plastered on a smile and began the long lie that would continue for the rest of my life. I heard them as soon as I entered the foyer. There was shouting and screaming, and it came from the drawing room.

‘Father,’ Draco shouted, ‘you don’t mean that. Hermione has done so much for you.’

When I entered, I saw Lucius blind with rage, his once perfect hair was dishevelled. He paced the room like a mad man; more than one heirloom had been thrown, and the pieces lay shattered on the floor. 

‘Your little Mudblood has no place in your mother’s house. She was ashamed when you brought the harlot home, and we only allowed her here to keep you happy.

‘That’s a lie, Father, and you know it. I’m not saying it was always easy, but in the end—’

‘—in the end, your mother died, and you left her in the filthy hands of a non-magical bitch.’

I swallowed, my hand fluttering to the necklace he had given me. Here, I was forced to watch them fight. The two men that I loved. It would have been less painful to watch them fight over me. Draco defended me, ruthlessly and violently defended me, even to his father; I didn’t deserve it. I was unworthy of Draco, who really had grown into an honourable man. 

‘She’s my wife, father. She has given up everything to care for you and Mother. If you want to make this a choice, it’s fairly simple. It’s Hermione every single time.’

‘I knew it would be. You bring shame to this name, to this house! GET OUT AND TAKE YOUR BITCH WITH YOU!’

‘Don’t worry, we’re going. I’ll send for our things.’

Draco then whisked me away. He cared for me as I cried myself to sleep each night. He knew I was heartbroken, he knew his father was the cause, but he didn’t see the truth. 


	2. Out of the Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione can't handle the burden of her actions and the secret she promised to keep. Will speaking set another tragic chain of events into motion?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I had a few people request more for this and I ended up really loving writing it, so here is another chapter. Not as saucy as the last, but hopefully it's just as juicy.

Out of the Vault

I sat at my desk when she turned up unexpectedly. Don’t get me wrong, I was always happy to see Hermione, but this was different. She was distracted as soon as she walked through the door. Her hair was more frazzled than usual, her robes slightly askew, but more than that, she just wasn’t her usual self. Hermione stumbled into the office, dropping her bag and everything tipping all over the floor. She fumbled to get everything back together and when she finally sat down, she couldn’t meet my eye. 

As an Auror, I learnt how to read people, and since I knew Hermione better than almost anyone, red flags went up. 

‘Can I get you a drink?’ I asked as I placed a stack of files on my desk.

Hermione was somewhere else, in her mind, I mean. I had to ask twice before getting any response, and then it was a jerky nod. No verbal response. Hermione was a big fan of a verbal response. It didn’t take me long to summon some coffee. It took a little longer to realise what was wrong. 

‘Are you okay?’ I asked. ‘Draco told me what had happened with Lucius. I’m sorry; it must have brought back a lot of bad memories.’ 

Hermione didn’t respond, wafting a hand as though her father-in-law banishing her was of little consequence. There was a tear in her eye at the mention of his name though. 

‘Harry,’ she said finally. 

She looked up at me. Her usually lively eyes were dull with dark circles and the whites of her eyes were red. Her face in general was reddish, puffy in places, like she had been crying a lot. 

‘What’s wrong?’ I asked. I leant over the desk and grasped her hand. I just wanted her to know that I was here for her, whatever was going on. 

‘I did something awful,’ she finally said. Her voice cracked and I could hear the lump in her throat. I knew she was close to tears again. 

‘Nothing we can’t fix,’ I said with a smile. 

Hermione and I had been through so much, it was hard to believe that there was any situation that we couldn’t tackle together. 

‘You’ll be so ashamed of me, Harry.’ Hermione looked away, as large tears stood in her eyes and fell. They rolled down her flushed cheeks in slow motion. 

I watched as she hastily brushed the tear away. She didn’t seem embarrassed that she was crying, Merlin knows I’d comforted her more than I had Ginny. She was angry at the tears like she didn’t deserve them. Hermione was weighed down with guilt; it sat on her shoulders like an insurmountable burden. No one was ever as hard on Hermione as Hermione. 

‘I couldn’t be, ever. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, I will always be there for you, always love you, always support you. You’re like a little sister to me.’

‘I’m actually almost a year older than you.’ A small smile flitted over her face but soon vanished. ‘I don’t know Harry, this is really… I was supposed to keep it to myself, but I can’t. I feel like I’m going to burst with it.’

‘Then tell me. I’ll help you, whatever it is, whatever you need. Ginny and I, we’ll be there for you.’

I couldn’t sit there and watch her, so I got up and walked around my desk. I sat next to her and when I pulled her into a hug, I felt how fragile she was. Her body shook as she cried, and her tiny frame was smaller than ever. She was wasting away. 

‘I’m pregnant,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper. 

My grip loosened. I didn’t understand. I moved in front of her, squished between her chair and my desk, squatting so I could look into her eyes. 

‘I thought that would be good news, isn’t that what Draco wants?’ My brain sorted through the information, and I tried to come up with a reason for her guilt. ‘Wait, does Draco not want kids yet and you just went rogue? I’m sure he’ll forgive you. I mean I was shocked when James came along, but as soon as I felt that first kick—’

‘—It’s  _ not _ Draco’s.’ 

The words had hung in the air. The implications of what Hermione had told me hit me like a brick wall. Shock and disbelief were the main feelings I had; this wasn’t Hermione. She didn’t— wouldn’t do this. I leant back, looking her in the eye and she seemed so utterly broken, guilt-ridden. I had no option but to believe it was the truth. 

‘But.’ I paused, not knowing what I wanted to say. 

She looked even more broken than before. My silence, my lack of reaction only seemed to fuel the self-hatred she’d taken onboard. 

‘How?’ I asked.

She sniggered. ‘The usual way.’

‘I mean,’ I got up and sat back on my chair, but I held both her hands, looking into her eyes, so she knew I really was on her side, ‘were you forced? Coerced?’ 

She pulled her hands away as she shook her head in shame. Her hands went to her neck, and she clutched a delicate necklace that seemed to be studded with diamond flowers. 

‘Did Draco do something? Did he hurt you?’

More tears started to fall, and I had thought then that I understood. Hermione had just been trying to break free. All the fears I had when she and Draco first got together seemed to be coming true. I felt the anger bubble inside me; he had made her so miserable she had debased herself in the hope of freedom. Then she shook her head.

‘He’s fucking perfect,’ she said. The tears fell thick and fast, and she continued to wipe them away. ‘He is so attentive and caring. He gives me anything I think I could possibly want or need, and not just money stuff; though he is a giver for sure. He stays up late and talks to me about my day, he listens, he cares. He  _ fucking _ adores me, and I don’t deserve it, Harry.’

‘I’m confused.’ It was the only response I could come up with. I couldn’t think of any other reason that she would do this. Hermione just didn’t do things like that. 

‘It’s complicated,’ she whispered. She pulled out a fresh handkerchief. 

‘With all due respect, isn’t that what everyone in your situation says?’

She laughed, but it wasn’t happy; it was cynical, hollow. ‘I really am a cliché.’

‘Explain it to me, ‘cause I don’t get it. I don’t understand why you told me. Do you want help telling Draco? What can I do to help you?’

‘I think you should wait before helping me. Soon you’ll be saying: “Why should I help you?” It’s so much worse than you know.’ 

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes with her fingers and then pulled her hair up into a haphazard ponytail. 

‘It doesn’t matter. You’re Hermione. You get my help,’ I said with a smile. ‘But I’m taking the coffee; you should have decaf.’ 

I had to busy myself, making her a fresh cup of coffee. This time the Muggle way. I needed to wrap my head around this situation, and how I could possibly help her. 

‘Do you know who the father is?’ I asked as I turned around. 

Hermione’s eyes were wide, as though afraid. I couldn’t help wondering who would elicit such a reaction. That was when she finally told me. I had dropped the mug. It smashed on the floor and coated my robes in hot coffee before I had even registered what she had said. 

‘His dad?’ I handed over a fresh mug of decaf coffee and then collapsed into my chair. I watched as she covered her face, shaking her head as she sobbed. 

‘I know. I’m … there are no words for what I am, Harry. I am the worst kind of homewrecker!’

‘Well,’ I began, trying desperately to see a bright side, ‘if you wanted to hide it, a paternity potion is very likely to be on your side.’ I smiled at her weakly. I just wanted her to know that I was still there for her. Family was essential, and no matter what they did, you stood by them. At least I did. 

Her lip quivered when I said that. I told her that I refused to abandon her, and that was what family did. ‘Do you think Draco will see it like that?’ she asked.

I thought about it. Draco Malfoy had changed, more so once married to Hermione. It was hard to answer that question. I couldn’t imagine him not forgiving her; Draco worshipped the ground she walked on. Draco also understood mistakes more than anyone. He had been forgiven so much by Hermione. But it was his dad. I wondered, if Sirius were alive and Ginny cheated with him, how would I feel? Would I forgive her?

‘I don’t know. I mean that’s a good thing, though, right? I don’t think he’s going to be closed off to the idea, but you picked the single worst person to cheat with.’

‘Yes, Harry, ‘cause that’s what I did. I made a list of all potential partners and decided, “I know, I’ll fuck Lucius!”’ 

‘Point taken.’ I sighed. ‘Look, you need to decide what you want to do. You can hide it, and I will help you; you can tell Draco, and I will be there for you. You have to be the one to make a decision and to commit to it.’

She seemed to relax somewhat, her fingers tracing the delicate diamond necklace. I wondered. She had been doing that all morning, when she was nervous, touching it, caressing it. It wasn’t the kind of thing that Hermione wore, at least not on a regular day. She seemed to unwind each and every time her fingertips caressed the pink diamond flowers. 

‘What is that necklace, Hermione?’ I asked. 

She pulled her robes around her as if trying to hide the necklace. It was too late, I had already seen it. 

‘It’s just a necklace I was given when I stayed at the manor.’ Her response was cagey, almost as though she were reluctant to be more specific. 

‘Lucius gave it to you?’ I asked.

She nodded, and a single tear fell. This time she didn’t wipe it away.

I could tell what I was thinking wouldn’t be welcome. All I could think was that this was very out of character for Hermione, and she had been so compulsive about the necklace Lucius had given her. The man being Lucius Malfoy, who hadn’t been in trouble since the second war, and had, by all accounts, changed. His record was still against him. 

‘Would you…’ I said, reluctantly, ‘would you let me get it checked out?’ 

Her brows furrowed in confusion and she clutched the necklace at her throat. ‘Why?’ she asked, her tone filled with accusation.

‘You haven’t been yourself and the way you are so compulsive about the necklace… you know, his history is against him.’

Hermione tensed up. She shook her head, strands of frizzy hair escaping its confines and framing her livid face. ‘He would never do anything like that to me!’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ I said, trying desperately to be tactful. I had done this so many times, and witches rarely believed that the wizard they were involved in would give them something that was cursed, or any object that would influence them. Usually, it was part of how those curses and hexed objects worked. Taking it by force, if it was cursed, wouldn’t be good for Hermione. ‘It’s just a precaution.’

Hermione stood up and grabbed her bag. Her expression hadn’t changed. ‘I can’t believe that you would suggest such a thing! You’re just prejudiced. There’s no way on earth that Hermione Granger, golden girl, could ever make a mistake. It has to be the monster, doesn’t it? You can only stand by me as long as you have a way to blame him.’ 

I watched her storm out of the office. My concern about the necklace only grew. Even if it wasn’t cursed, Hermione needed my help.

  
  


I arrived home later that evening. Ginny had already made dinner. She was still on maternity leave, and as much as I knew she wanted to get back to work, I loved coming home to her, James and dinner on the table. Today, I needed it more than usual. I went up to my office first, as usual, and put everything away. I hadn’t even taken my cloak into work today, I just had a bunch of mission files to go over before they could go to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Work hadn’t been that stressful actually.

‘Harry!’ Ginny called. ‘Dinner’s on the table. Hurry up.’

I threw my outer robes onto the chair and made my way downstairs. I hoped that I could forget everything to do with Hermione. I sat at the table, distracted and started to pile mashed potato on my plate. I barely noticed her piling veg on one side and a few slices of meat. 

‘Don’t you think that’s enough mash, Harry?’ she asked. 

I looked down, and saw I had piled my plate far too high with a mountain of puffy white potatoes. ‘Sorry, I’m not with it.’

‘Ron said that it’s been really chill. You let everyone go home early. Is there something going on high up? You look -’

-fucked? Yeah, I am.’ I started piling my excess mash onto Ginny’s plate.

‘We’re supposed to be using alternates when around James. I don’t want him to grow up with a mouth like Ron.’

‘Sorry. I—’

‘Harry, what is wrong with you today?’

‘It’s… nothing.’ I tried to focus on my food. I knew once Ginny heard part of the tale, she would need all of it, and I knew I couldn’t share. Hermione had trusted me.

‘Of course it’s nothing. Is it work?’ she asked. 

‘No, work’s fine. I just have a few reports upstairs. I need to go over and hand them over to DMLE tomorrow.’ I tried to word it so I wasn’t lying, but I hoped that she would assume I was distracted by files.

‘Is it something personal?’ she asked. ‘Ron said you had Hermione in your office for an hour today.’

That was too close to the mark. I really needed to end this conversation now. 

‘Gin, it’s nothing. I’m just tired. Okay?’

‘I hate that you can share things with Hermione and not with me. I am your wife, but you have something weighing you down, and you go to someone else.’ Ginny ignored her dinner, her arms crossed, with a face like thunder. 

‘You’ve got it the wrong way round, Gin. I’m weighed down  _ because  _ of what Hermione told me. It’s not something I am allowed to share, though.’

Her arms had loosened straight away and the expression changed to one of concern. ‘Is she okay?’ she asked. ‘If that albino ferret did something to her, I mean it—’

‘Draco hasn’t done anything. In fact, she’s the one in the wrong.’ 

Ginny never failed to find out what was going on, be it at work, with Hermione or with Ron. She always got the information she needed . Sometimes I wished I could get her in an interrogation room with a suspect. 

‘Hermione? No.’ She laughed as she waved away any implication that Hermione was the issue with a Draco and Hermione situation. ‘That would never be the case. Wait… is she blaming herself for what his vile father has done? I personally think that Draco and Hermione are lucky to have him out of their lives.’

‘No, it’s not really about that.’

‘So it’s not that? What did she do? I mean, it’s Hermione, it’s hardly going to be that bad.’ Ginny giggled at the ridiculousness of Hermione being the bad guy, just like I had earlier that day. I wondered whether Hermione had a point about our attitude towards her and Draco. ‘What did she do? Have a look at some of the men in ‘Play Witch’?’ 

I hadn’t kept my face straight enough. I had always been a terrible liar. Ginny jumped on it quicker than a horny Hippogriff. 

‘She looked at someone else? I mean if you’re feeling so bad about it… she didn’t do anything? Did she? Oh shit, Harry. Who was it?’

‘I can’t tell you. Hermione hasn’t decided what she’s doing yet, but she knows she has to make a decision real soon.’

‘Why all the time pressure? It’s not like she’s pregnant.’

‘Can we not talk about this? It’s not my secret to tell.’ I looked at Ginny pleadingly. I needed the conversation to end before I let any more slip. ‘I said—’

‘Wait… you didn’t laugh. Fucking hell, she’s  _ pregnant _ too?’ Her jaw dropped, and her eyes were wide. She looked like a ridiculous caricature specifically designed to show you what shock or horror looked like. ‘Who is it?’ she asked. She had been so insistent, and I knew she wasn’t going to drop it. 

‘Someone close to home. Look, that’s all I will say. She needs to make a decision and Draco deserves to hear this from her and not from Lavender, okay?’ I rarely laid down the law — I didn’t like that, it felt too much like the Dursleys — but this was important. It was for Hermione.

Ginny looked shocked, but then her expression changed to something more resembling acceptance, and I felt sure the topic was dropped. I finally got to eat my food in peace, but sharing what I had meant I at least got some peace that night. Ginny understood how I felt about knowing and not sharing. Telling her this small amount had been the right thing to do. I was sure of it.

I came home from work about a week later and the shit well and truly hit the fan. Ginny sat at the kitchen table with Lavender. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and if looks could kill, I would be six feet under. 

‘You were just going to keep it a secret?’ Lavender said through angry gritted teeth. ‘I bet you would like it, wouldn’t you, if Ron left me for …  _ her! _ We have a baby Harry. She is a filthy homewrecker!’

At first I was confused, but then realisation dawned. ‘You told Lavender? What did I say about it being Hermione’s decision to speak up?’

‘I’m sorry, but regardless, Ron and Lav have a baby. I needed to help them have their best chance, for Thomas.’

‘I never said it was Ron,’ I replied, the frustration I felt oozing into every word. 

‘You didn’t have to.’ Ginny crossed her arms, squaring up to me. ‘You said it was close to home, you told me without telling me. That’s the only reason I dropped it.’

‘Well, it’s not. You’re wrong. Ron has no idea about all this.’

Ginny’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ‘Shit.’

‘You’re sure it wasn’t my Won Won?’

‘Very sure. Please tell me you haven’t spoken to him?’

Lavender looked shifty. ‘I was really mad.’

That’s when the Floo system erupted in green flames. Ron stepped out of the fireplace looking furious.

‘Harry,’ he shouted, ‘you tell her it’s a lie right now. I have not cheated with Hermione, and it’s your stupid sense of humour!’

Lavender jumped from her spot on the chair and dived into Ron’s arms, kissing and apologising to him. ‘I know.’ She continued cooing and whispering a litany of apologies in his ear. 

The fire erupted into life once again and Draco walked into the kitchen. At the same time, Ginny said the worst thing she could have.

‘We know, Ron. Harry’s the only one who knows who Hermione’s baby daddy is.’

‘Hermione’s pregnant?’ Draco asked as his face paled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos so far, please drop another or comment below. I would love to hear where you want or think this is going to go.


	3. What's in the Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Draco,’ she said. She never continued the sentence. She just cried.
> 
> ‘Please,’ I said. ‘Just tell me it’s a lie. Please.’
> 
> She walked over to me, tears in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to find out like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter
> 
> Thank you so much guys, the reviews have been lovely. I appreciate every single one of them. 
> 
> Wordcount: 3115
> 
> Beta: Thank you to Neji

What’s in the Vault?

‘If you tell me you didn’t do it, I’ll believe you.’

That’s what I said when she came home. I sat on the sofa. My head was in my hands. My life was crumbling around me. 

I looked up at her. If she told me it was a lie, I would have believed her, despite the guilty expression. I wanted it to be a lie. I  _ needed _ it to be a lie. 

‘Draco,’ she said. She never continued the sentence. She just cried.

‘Please,’ I said. ‘Just tell me it’s a lie.  _ Please. _ ’

She walked over to me, tears in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to find out like this. I swear, I just needed to find a way…’

I looked up at her. She had looked back and I knew there was no hope that this was a trick or a lie. She was too honest to allow a deception. ‘I wish you would lie,’ I said. 

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ She walked over and sat down next to me. She was tentative. It looked like she wanted to hold me, be comforted by me. She had chosen to hold herself back though. 

‘Why?’ I asked. I looked up at her, and I couldn’t imagine there was any expression there. I felt so numb at that point. The rising tide of fury hadn’t even begun to bubble within me yet. 

‘You did nothing wrong,’ she said. A small tear had slid down her cheek and I watched her wipe it away as though it offended her. I remember wondering why? Was it that she refused to cry over me? Over losing me? Did she think she didn’t deserve to feel this pain because she had done this to us?  _ She _ had done this.

‘Am I a bad husband?’ I asked. I looked down at her tear stained face and I no longer cared why she cried. ‘Do I not  _ satisfy _ you?’ I asked, in a cool voice. I tried to remain as calm and detached as possible. I didn’t want to allow myself to feel, because I knew that the numbness passing would only lead to excruciating pain. 

‘No,’ she said in a whisper. ‘You have been the best husband I could imagine.’ 

She then got down on her knees in front of me. She took hold of my hands and looked into my eyes, kissing the tips of my fingers. It was so …  _ subservient _ of her. Hermione was never subservient. 

‘Then, why?’ I asked again. ‘I want to know. I want a reason why you threw our life away.’ 

She didn’t say anything. She was still knelt on the floor. She wasn’t the woman I had fallen in love with. Not in this moment. Not in moments past, as I was finding out. She was weak, crying in a heap on the floor. She, believe it or not, was also the one in the wrong. Who would have thought it; Draco Malfoy being the one with the moral high-ground. 

‘Come on!’ I said, my voice hissed at her. ‘Tell me why!’ My hands slipped out of hers and I grabbed her wrists, pulling her closer so our faces nearly touched. ‘I SAID WHY?’ Her silence had broken through. Instead of feeling numb, I was exposed. Every nerve was firing, delivering the pain that I had been spared until this point. It was a pain like nothing I had felt before.

She looked up at me and her eyes were wide with fear. It frightened me. I didn’t want to be that man. I stepped away, my head in my hands.

‘Draco, it’s okay.’

I turned, practically spun on my heel, and looked at her. ‘It’s okay? What about this is “okay”? You’re sleeping with other men and I’m hurting you… physically hurting you. I would ask you to explain your assessment to me, but you don’t seem to want to answer any of my questions. I mean, how dare I, right? How dare your husband ask why you chose to  _ fuck _ someone else?’

She stood up and wiped the tears away again. It was as though she wanted me to notice, wanted me to pity her. 

‘I’m sorry I cannot give you an answer. I don’t know how I got to this place. I don’t know what possessed me to do this. It just happened.’

‘One day you just woke up and decided to go and fuck someone? And not just someone—’

Hermione’s eyes were wide with horror.

‘—Oh it’s okay, I don’t know who. Harry just said it was “close to home”. So, you have no “why”, can you give me a “who”?’

She just shook her head. ‘I promise I will never see them, never again. Not even once. I promise.’

‘Was it planned out? Did you want to punish me for my past? So, what, you make me love you, bring me to the point where I give up everything for you; my father no longer speaks to me, because I’m married to you. Then you picked now to punish me. To hurt me as much as you could?’

She had looked horrified at my insinuation. ‘No, never! I love you!’

‘I would have prefered Azkaban to this. I would have prefered the  _ old _ Azkaban with Dementors sucking the life out of me to this.’ I couldn’t contain the burning rage and the longer I was clueless as to why this had to happen to me, the more the rage built. 

‘Draco, it’s not like that. You don’t deserve this…’ Her sobs filled the room as her tears ran in streams. I didn’t care.

‘Then muster up a why! I need a reason. I need something logical; a reason why you would do this to me.’ I could feel my lip trembling as the anger subsided and seemed to transform into grief and despair. ‘I  _ need _ to know why, Hermione. If you loved me, you would tell me.’

‘It crept up on me. I didn’t realise there was something to stop until it was too late. I regretted it the moment—’

‘—Everyone regrets it the moment it happens.’ 

‘And I never understood why, until I realised how easily you can slip and fall. How easy it is to make the worst mistake of your life.’

‘Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you tell me right away?’ I paced the room, I refused to even look at her. My heart wasn’t big enough to hold everything I felt. I was heartbroken and furious. I loved and hated her. I was being torn in two. The part that would stay with her, and the part that would leave. 

‘I was frightened,’ she said, her voice was whimpering and pathetic, but there was some sincerity there. I almost felt for her. ‘I didn’t want to lose you.’

‘I didn’t want to lose you either.’ 

That was when she looked afraid again, panicked even. ‘No, Draco, please don’t!’ 

‘You can’t tell me what’s wrong with us that would make you go somewhere else. You refuse to tell me who. What the fuck would I stay for?’

‘Our baby.’ She stood there holding her stomach. Her bump didn’t show much at all; she needed the hands there to point it out. To guilt me into staying.

‘It mightn’t be mine.’ 

‘It’s yours,’ she whispered. ‘I can feel it. I believe it with all my heart. I want it to be yours.’

‘Wanting something doesn’t make it so.’

  
  
  


I hadn’t gone far. I had walked aimlessly, trying desperately to clear my head. I had contemplated the bar and a large glass of red wine. I knew that would only make things worse. I ended up at a park, thinking about what I wanted. Despite everything, I wanted her. I wanted to fix this, regardless of the cost. 

It made me feel weak to walk back to her. I did it anyway. 

When I walked back into our apartment, she was curled on the sofa, sobbing, holding a pillow. It made me feel a little better in a sick sort of way. 

‘You said it snuck up on you?’ I asked. ‘Did you have feelings for him?’

I watched her head slowly appear from behind the pillow. ‘I,’ she began. She stuttered the word a few times before she managed to form a sentence. ‘I felt something, and I am not sure what it was. I cared for him, but...’

I sighed. ‘You loved him. You couldn’t go that far without it.’ I knew her too well.

‘It’s not like that… I swear. It’s complicated, but it’s not love. I promise.’ She sat up, desperate, still holding the pillow as though it had the power to protect her. 

‘What do you want?’ 

‘You,’ she said. She stood up and let the pillow drop to the floor. She walked over to me, her hands rested on my chest as she looked into my eyes. ‘If I could have you back and make it so that never happened, I would. I will do anything, anything to keep you, to make this right.’

‘Then make me understand. Explain it, whatever happened.’

Her lips found mine almost instantly. Her hands cradled my neck as she poured her desperation into the kiss and for a moment, things were okay. I savoured the feeling of her body against mine, the curve of her waist. My hands skimmed her body, creeping under her top feeling her soft supple skin. 

I felt hungry for her. 

‘I swear on everything I hold dear, it will never happen again.’ Her voice was husky, needy even. 

Her hands reached for mine, guiding them to her perfect round breasts. Her moans went straight to my groin. Her hands moved lower, around my waist and then down the back of my trousers as she pulled me closer. She must have been able to feel me against her stomach, the evidence of how much I wanted her, how much I wanted this to work. Sure enough a wanton moan escaped.

‘Hermione, don’t.’

‘No, Draco, I want to show you. There’s only you.’ Her hands moved around the front, making quick work of the buckle, buttons and zip, freeing me. She slid down to her knees, licking her lips. ‘We can fix this.’ She smiled and grasped me, gently stroking me. It was blissful. 

‘Please,’ I all but begged her.

She was all too willing. Soon her mouth was around me, her tongue driving me mad with desire. I looked down and she was looking me right in the eye, my cock in her mouth. The only thing I could think was “did she do this with him?” I didn’t want it to end. I wanted us to work through this, so I pulled her up. I sat on the couch and she straddled me. Grinding against me. 

I loved seeing Hermione like this. She was so free, she had no shame, she was willing to show me everything she wanted, to give me whatever I wanted. This was an expression of our love. But now, it was tainted by someone I couldn’t even confront. I tried to push the thought aside. 

I pulled open her shirt, about to capture one of her breasts in my mouth, but that was when I saw the necklace. It was my father’s necklace and instantly I recalled that afternoon when he insisted we leave the house. Insisted that we never see him again. 

‘He knew, didn’t he?’ I placed my hands on her hips, stopping everything. ‘That’s why my dad demanded we leave, that’s why all of a sudden he hated you. He found out, and that’s why my father is no longer in my life?’

‘Draco, it’s not like that at all. I don’t know why your father did that, and as far as I know, he knew nothing.’

I pushed her to one side of the sofa, standing up. ‘He loved that necklace.’ I pointed at the delicate rose flowers that decorated her chest, making her breasts look more irresistible than ever. ‘He would never have given it to you if he had been hiding his hate. Something changed his mind.’

‘I didn’t know, I swear.’ She clambered up off the sofa, her hands on my arm, trying to pull me back. ‘If this is why he left, maybe we can work it out with him. I don’t want you to lose your father. Please.’ She kissed my chest; her tongue caressed my nipples and I could barely contain the shiver. 

‘No, stop, Hermione.’ I pushed her away. ‘I want to fix this. This isn’t how. We need to make things right.’

  
  


I went to the only person I felt I could trust. It was ironic, really, because Ron Weasley was the person that everyone believed she had slept with. Ron was my partner at the Auror Office and there was no one I trusted more. He just wouldn’t do that. I had trusted him with my life many times over and that brought people together. Even Weasleys and Malfoys.

I knocked on the door. I had apparated and walked. It had taken ages, but I needed to clear my head. Somewhere in all this, the necklace meant something. 

‘Draco!’ Lavender opened the door with a bright smile on her face. ‘You’re not here to shout at Ron, are you? He didn’t go anywhere near that that—’

‘—my wife? Yeah, I’m here for his advice. I know Ron didn’t do it.’ I smiled at her, at the fear in her eyes and the way it calmed at my words. 

She adored him. She would never leave, cheat or hurt Ron if she could help it. There was a pang of jealousy that Hermione was never that devoted. I had been attracted to her independence. I just never thought that it would lead to this. 

‘Well, come in then!’ She was bright, bubbly and eager. 

Some called her an airhead, but being perpetually happy couldn’t be a bad thing. She was a great mother too, so devoted to her little baby boy. I felt a pang of jealousy there too. I might be a dad, but then again, someone else might be. 

I was invited to Ron’s ‘man cave’. That was what Lavender called it, apparently it was some Muggle thing. Basically, Ron had a room in the house that he was allowed to paint bright orange and show his unending support for Chudley Cannons and Lavender had an entire house that she could redecorate as the mood suited her. It seemed to work for them. Hermione and I were never like that. 

Ron reached over to a small cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Ogden’s finest. Two fingers of whisky and a handful of ice was thrust into my hand. ‘Your wife cheated, you deserve it,’ he said. 

I took a large swig because at that point, I didn’t know what I wanted to say, or what I wanted to happen. Ron seemed to be quite good at this, probably from all those years listening to Potter moan and whinge. He waited on me. The silence wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. 

‘She won’t say who it is,’ I said. 

‘But you know it’s not me, right?’ Ron raised his brow, questioning me. I wondered if he was expecting me to punch him out, just like Lav.

‘I never suspected you for a minute. All I know is that she’s terrified of telling me and it’s someone close to home.’ I took another large swig, the glass already mostly empty. 

Ron leaned over, pouring another two fingers of whiskey. ‘That should tell you something. Of all the people close to home, who are the people she spends most time with and would be the most … shameful?’

‘Well, Potter knew.’ I looked at the amber liquid swirled with the ice as I moved the glass. All of a sudden, it seemed to be the most fascinating thing in the world. 

‘Not Harry. Just… no!’ Ron grimaced. 

‘Why not Harry? Name anyone closer to Hermione?’

‘Exactly! I mean, don’t get me wrong, back in the day, I thought the same thing.’ Ron was almost laughing. ‘Look, I know we don’t talk about me and Hermione much, but you know I had a thing for her.’

‘The entire wizarding world knew, mate. The only people that didn’t know were you and Hermione.’

‘I knew,’ Ron said, ‘I was just a tosspot.’ 

We both laughed at that. It’s the kind of thing that men get, knowing what you want and then doing everything to sabotage it. 

‘I thought she would pick the great Harry Potter. I mean, why wouldn’t I? They are ridiculously close. You know we were hunting Horcruxes during seventh year, right?’

‘Yeah, Hermione told me all about it when we were first getting together.’

‘Well, when you destroy, or more accurately, try to destroy them, they don’t go quietly. It tried to get me to back down by showing me Harry and Hermione…. well , you know.’

‘Seriously? Gross, images!’ 

‘Harry was with me when it happened. We destroyed it and moved on, but after he talked to me about it. There’s nothing more disturbing to him. He just doesn’t see her that way… at all. It would be like me and Ginny. Wrong on so many levels.’

‘So that leaves the rest of your family.’

‘Checked. Bill got slapped by Fleur, that was fun.’ Ron grinned, which was infectious. 

Ron was a surprising partner at work. It was hard at first—we had spent too long hating each other—but we had to learn to rely on each other, to have each other’s back. Soon we became closer and I was able to appreciate the way he thought about things, the way that he could make anyone laugh, regardless of the shit that was going down. That, despite the foul mood he has, he was a good and honourable guy. His loyalty, once won, never failed. 

‘I wonder if it’s someone from work? I mean she has just started work again, but…’ 

‘But what?’ he asked. 

Ron always seemed to know when I was thinking something significant, something that could unlock the way we thought about a case. It seemed who my wife had strayed with was just another mystery now. One that Ron would uncover.

‘My dad kicked us out. It made no sense. It made even less sense when she was wearing a necklace that he had to have given her. It’s one of his most prized possessions. So, he hadn’t been hiding his hatred all these years. I mean, he must have found out and that’s why he kicked us out. Hermione only went back to work after that.’

‘Right,’ Ron said. He bit his lip and shifted in his seat.

‘What?’ I asked.

Then Ron said something that completely changed the way I thought about everything. 

‘Your dad definitely classifies as “close to home”.’

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading. More reviews please! :D


	4. Trapped in the Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lay in my bed day after day at first. I didn’t bathe. I rarely ate. I drank heavily. I didn’t see anyone and I ordered the elves to bar the doors. I gave them clothes. I couldn’t keep them; paying them, it only reminded me of her. I was alone in my squalor. 
> 
> I hated myself. I couldn’t resist the pull of seeing her and yet I couldn’t give into the temptation because it would break my only son’s heart. I was at my lowest point, and there was nothing else to do.
> 
> The first thing I had to do was make myself presentable. I showered, I shaved, I dressed in the finest robes I had. If I was saying goodbye, I was going to go out looking my best. Then, I left Malfoy Manor, and when I returned, I would never leave again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter
> 
> There are a few Lumione readers that have reviewed or commented on this and so I couldn’t help but dive back into Lucius’ point of view. Friendly reminder, this story is M rated. Thank you for the reviews and kudos.
> 
> Warnings: Depressed boarding on suicidal thoughts
> 
> Beta: Neji

Trapped in the Vault

I lay in my bed day after day at first. I didn’t bathe. I rarely ate. I drank heavily. I didn’t see anyone and I ordered the elves to bar the doors. I gave them clothes. I couldn’t keep them; paying them, it only reminded me of her. I was alone in my squalor. 

I hated myself. I couldn’t resist the pull of seeing her and yet I couldn’t give into the temptation because it would break my only son’s heart. I was at my lowest point, and there was nothing else to do.

The first thing I had to do was make myself presentable. I showered, I shaved, I dressed in the finest robes I had. If I was saying goodbye, I was going to go out looking my best. Then, I left Malfoy Manor, and when I returned, I would never leave again. 

* * *

The person I needed lived a life of exile, deep within the Muggle world. I walked down a dark cobbled street, all my thoughts consumed with the fear that he would be unwilling to help me. The house was in the middle of the street, every house looking exactly like its neighbour. It was not the kind of area I was used to, Cokeworth. It was impoverished and Muggle in the extreme. 

The man who opened the door was tall and imposing, though only to others. His face was paler than it used to be and his hooked nose was more prominent due to his sunken features. He had wasted away in the time since the war; the venom of Nagini had taken its toll on him. He had a bright red gash on his neck — even now, years later it looked angry and fresh. 

‘Lucius,’ he said, his voice barely a whisper. 

I nodded to him. ‘Severus, I require a favour.’ 

He looked at me quizzically, though he stepped aside, allowing me into his home. Severus rarely allowed anyone to enter his home. We had a history though. Despite finding out that he was in fact spying on the organisation I had sold my soul to, we both left the war with the same stigma and the same views.

‘What do you need?’ He shut the door behind us and led me through to his sitting room. 

It was the same as it had always been: dark, laden with books. There was a thicker layer of dust than before but everything else remained the same. 

‘It’s a complicated and illegal concoction.’ I wandered the living room, glancing at the volumes half-heartedly. My interest was only in Severus and his ability and willingness to give me what I wanted. What I needed. 

‘I haven’t said no, yet.’ Severus motioned for me to continue. ‘Though, the price will be steep.’

‘You can name whatever price you like, once I have explained to you what I need.’

Severus’ lip curled ever so slightly. If you knew him, you would know that was his version of a toothy smile. ‘Go on.’

‘It’s used to execute criminals in America. I am told it’s humane; blissfully encapsulated within your happiest, most joyful memories.’ I looked directly at Severus, trying to gauge his reaction; there was a slight frown on his face.

‘This would be for purely academic purposes?’ he asked. ‘Let me guess, Granger — sorry,  _ Granger-Malfoy _ — is looking for a more humane way to execute misbehaving creatures.’

‘She works at St Mungo’s.’ I shaped my features in a more confused expression. ‘No, she has nothing to do with it. I would like the potion to be adapted, the same effects, but you take it orally.’

‘Lucius, do I need to be concerned?’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything Precious Potter would get his knickers in a twist over.’ I focused intently on his books now, noticing volumes that Potter had been adamant were illegal and had taken from my own collection. ‘I didn’t come to you because of Potter’s little blind spot; I came to you for your skill.’

‘That wasn’t my concern.’ Severus tried to look me in the eye, but I was far smarter than that. ‘Is it because of Narcissa?’ he asked

‘Is what because of Narcissa?’ Severus looked at me, his dark eyes trying to catch my own. ‘You think I want to kill myself?’ I looked at him incredulously. It was all I had against a skilled Legillimens, lies and confidence.

‘Your beloved wife died, and you’ve been erratic of late.’

‘Erratic?’

‘Draco came by a few weeks ago. You kicked your remaining family out of your home and completely alienated them.’ Severus sat in the old soft armchair in the far corner. His eyes continued to follow me, waiting for the moment when they would be able to dip into my mind and find out what I was up to.

‘He had that wife of his looking after me every day like I was some sort of invalid. Let’s not mention that her morality has taken its toll on my collections.’

‘So, your story is that you are putting together your old collection in the cellar again?’ His lips pursed and there was a frown.

‘Look, can you do it or not? I know other potions masters who can do this and with a lot less fuss.’ I was impatient then. I wanted to move on.

‘I can. I will need a dose of your memories to make it work.’ He rose from the chair, making his way to a back room. 

I followed him. I needed to know the timescale I was working with. ‘How long?’ 

He ducked into a large cupboard and pulled out a vial. ‘It has a similar construction to the Draught of Living Death. I think I can have it ready in a few days.’ He handed over the vial as though he expected me to fill it for him.

‘The memories are only added when it’s taken. They don’t need to be added.’ He was trying to trip me up, trying to discover my plans or get his hands on my memories.

‘I offer a full service, I will be charging a lot.’

‘That service isn’t needed. How much? I will go to Gringotts tomorrow.’

He looked at me with a straight face, studying my face before he nodded. ‘One hundred Galleons.’

I was surprised when he went that high, but I didn’t even flinch as I shook his hand. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow.’

* * *

The following day I had planned on going straight to Gringotts, but when I saw the secondhand bookshop that had been her favourite, I had to stop by. The little shop had been Diagon Alley’s best-kept secret. It hid in a small corner, missed by most. It seemed to fade into the background, as invisible as if it were under the Fidelius charm. The metaphor went further, as once you saw it, you could never walk past without looking at it again. Maybe that was because of the fond memories I had with Hermione. 

The shop was well lit and had armchairs and cushioned couches in every nook and cranny. It was filled with tall bookshelves, arranged in a maze, practically trapping any patron. The shop seemed endless and I had to use a “point-me” to find the exit more than once.

I sat in Hermione’s favourite spot. I recalled the lengthy list of books she had on her ‘to buy’ list, and the fervent way in which she denied my offer to put a large order into Flourish and Blotts. She was insistent that the fun was in scouring the shelves to find a long-wanted treasure or a happy surprise. 

I caressed the spines of the various volumes, wanting to find something she would love. I had hoped to find something that she had never read before and something that would speak to her heart. What I found may have met that criteria — a worn but beautiful copy of a Muggle book of poetry I had always loved. It was a rare slice of Muggle literature, but I had always thought it beautiful and as I looked at the copy, I realised that it was a brilliant mirror of us: Songs of Innocence and of Experience.

I bought it and slipped a folded sheet of parchment into the book, then I made my way through the maze and onto the street where the tall white building that was Gringotts loomed. I strode up the street purposefully and, once inside, made my way to the Goblin at the head of the room. I asked if I could discuss my accounts and soon I was sitting in a wood-panelled room, waiting. 

Eventually, a squat-looking goblin entered. He was younger than most of the goblins here, with dark hair, dark eyes, and smoother skin. When he sat down behind the desk, he dropped a thick volume onto its surface. 

‘Mr Malfoy,’ he said, ‘what can we do for you?’

He had a greedy gleam in his eye. Historically, I had been quite a good customer to the bank and they got a lot of interest from my accounts. He likely had expected to get quite a large amount of gold out of me, but that never happened. 

‘I need to make some changes to my accounts,’ I began. ‘Firstly, I need to make a rather large withdrawal of five hundred galleons. From there, I will be making some drastic changes.

‘I need a new account opening and half the funds from the main family account should be moved there. The account should be in the name of Hermione Granger-Malfoy, my daughter-in-law. 

‘The remaining accounts, including the main family account, needs to be put in the name of Draco Malfoy, my son.’

The goblin looked aghast, which was actually quite amusing. ‘Mr Malfoy, these changes are extreme. This cannot be done on a whim. The bank must know why these changes are being made.’

I was irritated. I was used to giving orders and them being carried out. ‘It’s only natural. My wife has passed away, I’m getting older and it is time my son took over the estate. It is about preparing my son for the responsibility. You will find that my father was ten years younger when he moved everything over to me.’

The goblin began searching through the large volume which I assumed was a record of the Malfoy family accounts.

‘I see, yes, Mr Malfoy, however, your father had been diagnosed with Dragon Pox and it was a lengthy process. There are procedures that must be followed.’

‘Then we should be getting on with those procedures then.’ My temper bubbled. It was like the goblin was trying to make this harder than it needed to be. 

‘Most of this can be taken care of at the bank, but we require a blood-sealed medical report, a full and detailed report from St Mungo’s. I’m sure you understand. There are many magical methods someone could use to make this request as you and the bank must be vigilant.’

I had known about the procedure, but I wanted it waived. St Mungo’s meant that I might end up seeing her. The thing was that Goblins can not be manipulated and bent to your will, not where gold was concerned. Irritated and annoyed, I made my way to St Mungo’s, hoping that I would not have to interact with her. The idea of seeing her though, that was a delight that I found myself relishing as I walked out the bank

* * *

I decided to take advantage of being forced into attending St Mungo’s. My gift could easily be left in her office, after an appointment with any other healer. Thankfully, she was Head Healer and wouldn’t be asked to take care of such menial tasks as this. 

I walked into the building through the main entrance. On the off chance she saw me, I didn’t want to be covered in soot from the Floo. 

I strode through the white pristine halls until I arrived at the General Healing Practitioner’s ward. The ward was hectic, busier than I would have liked, and I needed this to be over as soon as possible. The nurses station across from me had a very flustered looking medi-witch; I knew exactly what to do. I strode over, using my full height and natural intimidating nature. 

‘I need to be seen immediately.’ I looked down my nose at the flustered and frightened healer as she shook where she stood. 

She must have been new to the job, new to having patients order her about. I could only imagine she had some fairytale view of how her job would go, helping the sick and receiving nothing but adoration for her efforts. I was to be the one to rid her of this delusion. 

‘We have a full waiting room, sir.’ She was practically whimpering, which only made it easier. 

‘Do you know who I am?’ This was the best way to start, so she started to question herself straight away. ‘I’m Lucius Malfoy, yes, that Lucius Malfoy. Disgraced Death Eater, the one that contributed thousands of galleons to this hospital. Are you really going to make such an important patron wait to see a Healer? I have pressing business.’

The healer didn’t respond, but scarpered off. When they scarper off you know they are too frightened to come back without giving you exactly what you want. The interaction, therefore, had been a success. At least, that was what I thought. She came back a few minutes later grinning, and I assumed this meant that she had done a good job. 

I have to give her credit: she thought she had done an excellent job, and it would have been an excellent job, except for my history with the Healer that she had assigned me. Hermione. I was shown into the Head Healers office, because, as the medi-witch put it,  _ Only the best for you, Sir. _

Hermione looked shocked to see me too. She sat at her desk, her hair held up in a delightfully messy bun, a quill perched within the brown bushy locks. I couldn’t help but be fixated on each and every detail, the way the robes fell over her perfect breasts. The soft lips that were open in a silent ‘oh’. Her brown eyes were warm and inviting and it took every ounce of self control not to bend her over the desk there and then. 

‘Lucius?’ Her voice saying my name is perhaps the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. 

I was unable to respond in the moment, I was too busy re-planning the day. Visiting Snape with his galleons, getting the potion that I needed, dropping off the book with the letter had become an easier task. 

‘I need a blood-sealed medical,’ I said. ‘I did not mean for her to bother you. When I said I would leave you be, I meant it. For business reasons I was forced to come to this blasted place.’

‘It’s okay.’ She rose from her desk and as she walked towards me I caught a glimpse of long slender legs, clad in black ‘fuck-me’ heels. ‘I was told a VIP needed a medical and I told them to send you my way. I’m sure we can get through this painlessly enough.’ 

‘Of course, we might even enjoy it,’ I said. 

She smiled and I was glad I had come. I almost wished I had planned it. 

‘Well, for a full medical there are a lot of tests, but we should be able to get them all done today. Some of them are more… invasive.’

‘I trust you implicitly.’

‘Okay, well we need to check your respiratory system, blood pressure, brain function, general bodily health. This includes checks for very curable illnesses such as prostate cancer, testicular cancer, arthritis, diabetes and other diet and ingestion related illnesses. Is that okay?’ She spoke with a faint blush, which I only assumed was because of the intimate nature of some of the tests she would be running. 

‘Where shall we start?’ I asked, trying to maintain some form of composure, but the thought of being undressed in front of her once more made it difficult to focus. 

‘I think brain function… safest I think.’ 

Soon she had me lie on a soft leather sofa while she collected a number of parchment rolls, potion vials and her wand. The brain function test had consisted of a list of questions, which I tried to answer without thinking about future exams. She took a memory sample for further tests, then she busied herself with checking my joints and asking a litany of questions about my freedom of movement. 

‘You do realise, you know most of the answer to these questions,’ I said. 

She smiled. ‘We should do things thoroughly, just in case things have changed.’ 

It was almost an hour later, there were five vials of samples, a stack of parchment and only a particular area left to test. She had told me all about her work and the studies she wanted to get started at the hospital, her latest books. I had lied through my teeth about all the things that I had been up to, the causes I wanted to give to, a partnership with Severus Snape to start a potions business — and the reason I needed the blood-sealed document — all necessary lies. By the time they were chased up, it would be too late anyway. 

‘If you would rather someone else—’

‘—No! I don’t think I could handle having just anyone inspect… there.’

‘Are you a prude, Lucius?’ she asked with a faint smile. 

Things had felt so normal and at peace, I laughed and told her she knew that I wasn’t. That was when I had to disrobe. I was thankful that I had made up for lost time on grooming. I removed my robes, then my shirt, where she checked my breathing once more. Her hands gently caressed my skin as she did. It was difficult to not respond to her touch. 

I bit my tongue, preventing my moan from leaving my lips. I swore I would not betray Draco again. I would not touch his wife again. 

‘Your trousers,’ she said, her voice was now the quietest of whispers.

My hands fumbled with the belt, and I was ashamed to admit that I struggled with such a simple task in my nervousness. Her small hands wrapped around mine, and from where she knelt on the floor, she began to undo my belt. She looked up at me with her big brown eyes and I no longer felt like I was having a medical test done. 

She lowered the zip and carefully pulled down my trousers. I thanked Merlin that I wasn’t ‘showing’ how much I was affected by her. She carefully removed my boxers. Delicately she lifted my member, and looking more critically at my testicles, she performed a variety of tests with her wand. Her hands were always gentle as she maneuvered me, her hand gently gliding over the soft skin. 

It was tentative and only for her tests, that much was logically clear, but I became aroused all the same. Initially she ignored it, gently turning me around as she whirled her wand and tentatively felt for something — I didn’t know what. When she turned me around again, she was facing a straining erection.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said, nervously.

Hermione blushed and tried to look away. She reached over to the table with the samples holding out another vial.

‘It’s okay, really. We need a sample anyway. There’s a private room through there, we have magazines if you need them.’ 

Her face was flushed scarlet and she looked at me once more. I was sure I saw need and want, and then, just like before, she adjusted her robes, her breasts peeking out above the neckline, enticing me.

‘Is the door locked?’

She coughed, clearing her throat. ‘You can lock it from the inside.’

I took a step closer to her, my trousers and boxers around my ankles. ‘No, your office door.’

Within a blink, she flicked her wand at the door, bolting it shut, and I pulled her towards me. ‘I don’t want to mastubate to any old witch,’ I said. 

‘What do you want?’ she asked, her brown eyes were so innocent and so willing. 

‘Remove your robes.’ 

She obeyed without question. She stood before me in a tight black pencil skirt, heels and a white blouse. She looked demure, innocent and irresistible. 

‘Go and sit on your desk,’ I said and I gently stroked myself with one hand as I watched her obey my every command. ‘Now, take off the blouse. I want to see you.’ 

She slowly unbuttoned the silk blouse. Even when all the buttons were undone, it remained closed, shielding her breasts from my view. She slowly, teasingly removed that too, letting me see her perfect mounds wrapped in black lace.

‘Touch them.’

Her hands gently caressed her bosom but her eyes never left mine. I watched as she licked her lips and let the faintest moan escape. I knew she was enjoying it, and that was the point for me. I wanted her to crave my touch, even though I didn’t give it. 

‘Take off the bra, but keep going.’

‘Okay.’ 

It was a marvel how she looked so sweet even as she obeyed my every command. I felt my erection strain at the sight of her topless. 

‘This works both ways, Hermione. What do you want to see?’ I asked. I wanted to obey her just as she obeyed me. 

‘I—’ she stuttered. Suddenly, she was so nervous. 

I nodded for her to continue, assuring her that I would do whatever she wanted. 

‘I want you to stop touching yourself.’ 

I was surprised by that, but I removed my hands, holding them up as I surrendered. 

‘Step out of your trousers.’ She continued caressing her chest, biting her lip, moaning and whimpering at her touch and probably at the control she had over me. 

I stepped out, removing my shoes and socks, my erection peeking out between the parting in my shirt. ‘What now?’

‘Take off the shirt. I want to see all of you. Every last inch of you should be on show.’ 

I followed her command, removing my shirt and stood there naked, vulnerable, but I would not have chosen anywhere else to be. Hermione was everything to me. I couldn’t imagine spending my life with another, which was why this was so tragic. It was why it was so painful, because she was just who I couldn’t have. 

‘Come to me,’ she said. ‘Make sure you let me know if you’re about to come, we need our sample.’ She smiled and it made me want to pin her to the desk and make love to her until I spilt the entire sample inside of her. 

I walked over, standing in front of her. My mouth was at the perfect height to take one of her nipples into my mouth, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to ruin the game. 

‘On your knees,’ she said with a smile.

‘You’re really starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?’ I asked, smiling at her newfound confidence. 

‘I said on your knees.’ She giggled as she placed a palm on my head, pushing me down. ‘Remove my shoes and stockings… if you don’t mind of course.’

‘Slave labour, that’s what this is. Wait until the Prophet finds out what you’re really like.’ I smirked at her as I joked, then contradictory to my complaints, I relished every second of removing her heels and nude stockings. 

‘Open your legs,’ I said, asserting control again. I was hungry for her; I wanted to taste her again. 

She yanked up the tight skirt and soon I had my face buried exactly where I wanted it. I didn’t stop, I just basked in the sounds of her pleasure. Her hands gripped my hair as she held me in place. As she whimpered and moaned in completion, the atmosphere changed. 

Her legs snapped shut and she covered her naked chest. ‘Fuck, what have I done?’ She looked at me with tears in her eyes, mortified and ashamed. ‘What have  _ we _ done? I’m— I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I love Draco, I want to make things work with my husband. If this is going to happen… I can’t do this. I can’t hurt him like this.’ 

She was soon off the desk, her blouse hurryingly wrapped around her and she sat on the sofa, curled up, hiding every piece of her from view. 

‘I didn’t come here for this,’ I said. I needed to say it, I needed her to know I didn’t want to cause her this pain. I needed her to think well of me. 

‘We still need your sample…’ She rummaged around the office, looking for the vial she had set aside. ‘I can help you out,’ she said, sniffing as she tried to subdue the sound of her tears.

I walked over to her, holding her in my arms, caressing her back. I whispered to her that it was okay, that she should sort herself and I would leave my sample in the private room. I kissed her one last time, and I knew it really was the last time. I had no need for any of the magazines that were set aside for moments like this: I thought of her. Once I had my sample, I was dressed, not a wrinkle or hair out of place. 

I walked back into her office and she was back dressed, she looked as beautiful and professional as she had when I entered. No one would know what had happened. They might have assumed I upset her, because her eyes were red and puffy. 

She was all business now. She called me over and sealed the various rolls of parchment in a box with a blood wax seal. She informed me that they would need to use my blood to open it, and the tests should reveal everything was normal. She also said that test results from samples would automatically be updated within the next twenty-four hours. 

She was hurrying me out of the office, but before I left, I slipped the book into her bag. She was so flustered it was easy to do without noticing. Then I left. Never to see her again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please comment and kudos


	5. No More Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco looked up. He almost looked hopeful. I understood; he wanted Hermione to have been cursed, tricked, that magical intervention would have to take place to cause this. That she adored him and without her free-will being stolen, she would never have done this to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter
> 
> The love for this story has been overwhelming. Thank you for the reviews and the kudos on AO3, it's been so encouraging. Just letting you know this is from Ron's POV

No More Vault

'Your dad definitely classifies as "close to home".' As soon as I had said that, I wanted to take it back, but it was done now.

Draco had stared at his tumbler of whiskey and then downed the lot. He sat completely still, his eyes looked as though they were bloodshot, but I thought it was just the intensity of what he had been going through. What he had been forced to face and his need to contain those emotions.

Draco and I had never been the 'heart to heart' type. Now, he had no one else to turn to, except me. He had always gone to Hermione, I had always gone to Lavender or Harry and Hermione. I had wanted to be there for him, show him that he still had some sort of solid ground.

'My dad is the only person she spends time with.' He broke what had been a very long silence and an intense staring competition with his empty tumbler.

'I talked to Harry about it all. He still refused to say who it was; he's so fucking loyal to Hermione. What he did say was that there was a necklace that she was obsessing over and he was worried that it might be cursed?' I had to look away, as what I said next was possibly taking things too far. 'Would your dad do something like that?'

Draco looked up. He almost looked hopeful. I understood; he wanted Hermione to have been cursed, tricked, that magical intervention would have to take place to cause this. That she adored him and without her free-will being stolen, she would never have done this to him.

'I don't know,' he said. 'I hadn't considered that my dad would do this, that somehow, I was excluded from his selfish grasping. I thought that my Father would at least put me before his wants. I was wrong about that. Why wouldn't he take her free-will to get what he wanted?'

I filled up his tumbler again. Aberforth's homebrew had gotten me through some dark times after the war, I wasn't going to hold back now. Who gave a damn what was emotionally healthy, sometimes you just needed to be as fucked up as you felt.

'I'm not saying that he did or he didn't, but _if_ he didn't and Hermione actually made this choice, can you deal with that? Do you know what went wrong?'

I felt like a therapist, trying to fix my mate's marriage. It was so cliché, he was even slumped on the sofa in the corner now. I just knew that he needed to face the reality of her making the choice — if there was any hope for them, he had to come to terms with that.

'No, Hermione and I were great. We haven't had any problems. There's no way she would do this, it has to be the necklace.' Draco got up, pacing the room, both hands thrust into his pockets.

I was frustrated, to be honest. He had Hermione on the same pedestal that Harry did. Why did no one realise that the girl was human? Why does everyone think that their relationship is so bloody perfect like it doesn't take hard work to make them succeed? Everyone has garbage and I needed to get Draco to admit to theirs. I couldn't tell you why I was so invested in this, in saving them.

'People don't cheat for no reason, Draco. I'm not sticking up for her; regardless of what made her feel like this was an option, she _was_ wrong. It's good to know what the problem is though. That's how you fix things.'

Draco stopped. He was standing with his back to me, glaring at a poster of the Chudley Canon's Keeper Galvin Gudgeon. He then spun on his heel, looking down at me with this unbelievable intensity.

'What would you know, Weasley?' he asked, his tone far more biting than it had been in the last few years. It was almost reminiscent of the Draco we went to Hogwarts with.

''Cause I was cheated on once. That's how I know. Hermione and I never recovered. We couldn't fix things till we acknowledged what went wrong. I couldn't forgive her or let go until I understood. I only understood once it was too late. She did what she did because she was unhappy, and while it was wrong, she only did it out of pain.'

Draco's face softened when he heard that. I could only imagine how guilty he felt because that was how he and Hermione got together. When I left Hermione at Hogwarts because I wanted fame and fortune as an Auror, without her. Draco had been there when I wasn't.

'Do you want to fix it? 'Cause if you don't, I can save my breath and we can toast your freedom. Maybe we can go to a bar and I'll be the best wingman you ever had. If you want to fix it, maybe you can get your head out of your ass and listen?'

'Did you not want to fix things?' he asked.

'I got pissy and angry and went to a bar. Lavender was there, not the best way to start a relationship.'

He laughed. 'No wonder she hates Hermione.'

'You and Hermione, it's different. You have a life together, we had pined and longed for each other, got together and split up real quick.'

I honestly had no idea which way he would go. I was mentally getting directions to the nearest bar, somewhere nice where he might find someone that might make him feel better for the night.

'I want Hermione.'

'Then go back to the beginning, when things were great. What made you and Hermione different from other couples? What did you guys have that others didn't and you thought they were lacking because they didn't have it? That stuff, the amazing things that are unique to you two.'

'We were friends first, I guess. There weren't many people who actually wanted to go back to Hogwarts. It was hard at first, don't get me wrong — it wasn't smooth sailing.'

'When you first got married, you know the honeymoon period, what was it like?'

Draco sat down, his head in his hands. Then he looked up, a small smile on his face. 'She was my best friend, we talked about everything. We didn't just talk about random crap, it was stimulating. She would push me like no one else, she challenged me, how I thought about things. She always had a new perspective, a different more interesting perspective, but I was able to do the same for her.

'It wasn't just the intelligence part though, she had fun the way I have fun. She wanted to try new things. She wanted to experience the wizarding world in a new way. We were both excited by anything new and we had adventures in that. We would just take the weekend and go somewhere we'd never been before. Like the underground wizarding city in Vatican City. She took me to see the Muggle wonders of the world, and they are phenomenal.

'Then — I'm sorry mate — there was the sex. She's not the only person I've been with, but I've never been as connected to one person as I am to her. We were just in sync. We looked at others and we just didn't see the electricity we had. The excitement and passion that we had.'

'When did that go away?'

'I mean, life changes, Ron. We have responsibilities too. You need to grow with life's changes, not have a hissy fit and cheat.'

'I'm not saying that, but things changed. When did they change? And not the normal cooling down to real life, I mean, when did you feel the distance between you?'

Draco didn't speak for a long while. The time passed by, each second could be heard in the ticking of the large clock. I had found myself staring at it, rather than pushing Draco for an answer. I analysed the clock in more detail than I ever had before and found myself wondering if I could tweak it to be like Mother's clock at the Burrow. Maybe, we could add an adultery hand.

'When Mum got sick,' Draco said finally. 'She quit her job and stayed at home with them. She focused on looking after mum until she died.'

I hated pushing him like this; I mean what was he supposed to do with his mum dying? He had been so lost when she first passed away, still was sometimes, and pushing this, I saw the same pain I had before. It angered me that this was part of the reason why Hermione cheated. It felt like she was kicking him when he was down.

'How did that affect your relationship?'

'Honestly, Ron, I thought we were fine. It was hard, we were watching my mother waste away. It was shit and we were both hurting. Mother's illness consumed our lives. There was nothing else.'

'Why didn't she go back to work?' I asked. 'I mean, why did things not go back to normal?'

Draco slumped into the chair, his hands running through his hair. 'I asked her to stay home…' He refused to look at me, instead, taking small sips of whiskey. 'I was worried about Father; he was affected more than anyone. I think, if I were honest, that's when things changed.'

'You pressured her into staying home?' I asked.

Draco looked guilty as sin. There it was, just as I knew it would be: a reason why she wasn't happy. She lost control and because it was family, that oh so kind heart of hers wouldn't say no. She cheated out of pain and was unwilling to go to Draco. Not because she couldn't, but because she didn't want there to be more pain for him.

'I didn't _force_ her. I did make sure she knew how worried I was and I did know that Hermione's bleeding heart would give up what she wanted…' He sighed. All of a sudden, the air had changed. 'We should have been able to heal and get the spark back after that, but we didn't.'

'It's like you don't even know her,' I said. 'Why would you take her work away from her?'

I imagine I looked at him in disbelief because work and stimulation are what she thrives off. It's literally what I tried to take from her, she refused and that created a gap that couldn't be filled. Draco had been part and parcel of why Hermione and I hadn't lasted. He should have known, the pillock.

'I know, I know! It was shitty of me and honestly, I thought I would be enough, when I got home we could talk about research, journals, politics, and maybe even go out and have fun until Father could handle things on his own.'

'Why didn't you? Not saying that Hermione cheating is right, but you knew what the effect could be.'

'I was always tired, busy with work, she was tired of doing nothing. I think she hated and loved it. She seemed to love helping my dad but she became so closed off to me, intellectually and even sexually. Not to the point where I thought she was going elsewhere, but we just didn't have the spark and nine times out of ten, I was the one that turned her down.'

'Why?' I looked at him. He had the look of someone who'd realised that he had basically handed her over to someone else.

'It just so happened that we had the raids and then the replacement for Azkaban was set up, everyone was working overtime.'

'You're such a prat. You just left her to get her needs met by someone else because I'm telling you, that's how it happened.' I laughed. 'Hermione can forgive you being too tired for sex—'

'—I don't want to know about that.'

'Not the point I'm making. To Hermione, the mind is foreplay, but it's also _not_ cheating. You left her to get those needs met by your dad and without realising it, she attached herself to something. She was wrong, don't misunderstand me, but if you want to fix it; if you want her back, you need to show her that you're not going to do this again.'

'I didn't _want_ to do it. On some level, I knew it was unfair, but I was afraid for my father, my apparently worthless father that really didn't deserve my concern.'

We sat in silence for a while. Draco had a lot on his mind. He was quiet in a way that told me he was thinking. He was quiet in the same way he would shut down during a stakeout and then suddenly put the case together. I just had one question I wanted to ask. One question I needed to ask him. I needed to know if there was any hope for Hermione.

I knew she regretted it. I knew her well enough for that. I cared about her enough that I wanted Draco to give her a second chance, even though I didn't think she deserved it. That was when there was a knock on the door. Lavender poked her head through the door.

'I think we need to eat something,' she said with a sweet smile. 'Draco needs to be able to see and think straight, and you've been drip-feeding him whiskey for hours!'

'Thanks, Lav,' Draco said with a smile. He actually looked truly grateful. He had never been that way with Lavender before, and it was moments like that that showed me how much Draco had changed from the git we knew at Hogwarts.

'What 'we having, Babe?' I asked.

'I made your absolute favourite, Wonnie!' she squealed. 'Steak stew with dumplings and I used your mum's recipe.'

* * *

We sat down to dinner, a huge pot of stew with warm bread and butter in the middle of the table. My family didn't often appreciate how caring Lav was, but I saw it. It was plain to see in the comfort food, the way she gracefully refused to insult Hermione, despite her very strong opinions. She did it all because she wanted Draco to feel better. That was Lavender: generous and caring.

'Draco,' she said, piling more dumplings onto his plate of stew, 'you're simply wasting away! Don't be so shy, have seconds, thirds, even fourth helpings.'

She smiled as she flicked her wand, his empty glass filling with ice-cold water.

'Thank you, Lavender. This really is amazing.' Draco dabbed his mouth; his impeccable breeding couldn't be beaten out of him, even after spending years on stake-outs with me.

'It's Molly's recipe, not mine.' Lavender's cheeks flushed, as they always did when my family was mentioned.

'I've had Molly's,' Draco smiled, 'yours is better.'

Lavender grinned at that. It was just what she needed, to know that she was helping. It was all Lav really wanted.

'I add lots of love.'

'Yeah, you do.' I waggled my eyebrows suggestively, and the faint flush became far more prominent.

Draco just laughed, and that was the point. The guy needed a break from thinking about Hermione and everything that was going on. He needed to have a little bit of fun.

'So, Draco, I set up the spare bedroom for you. You're staying here as long as you need.' Lavender basically commanded him, and Draco knew better than to fight back. 'You need to be around those that will look after you. Ron and I will be doing that, right, Ron?'

'Of course, stay as long as you like.'

I was far more focused on the stew. It was almost exactly like my mum's, but Lavender had altered the recipe — she always added a little extra pepper because she knew I liked it. What made this more remarkable was that Lavender hated peppery stew.

'I can't believe you don't get on with Ginny and Molly. You're the sweetest person I think I've ever met.'

Lavender's brow creased. 'They just don't think I'm good enough for Ron, but can I blame them? Ronnie deserves everything. As far as they are concerned, I could never be… _her!'_

The words were filled with venom, but her expression told a different story. She slouched more in her chair, her head bowed focused on her food. She longed for their approval.

I knew that now the topic of Hermione had been broached, it would not easily be closed. She wanted to give Draco a break from his stress, but the hurt Hermione had caused her — the way she felt about her — ran too deep.

'I would never cheat on Ron! Clearly Hermione isn't as loyal to her husband.' The tears welled in her eyes and her fists balled, [displaying] a sharp change in her mood. From longing for approval, she swiftly moved to the hurt and anger she'd felt at Hermione's hand.

'Lav, you're the best wife I could ask for, but…' I nodded towards Draco whose smile had faded. No doubt he had thought bickering about Molly and Ginny would be safe territory. This was what happened when you didn't tell your mate your wife hated his wife.

'Oh… Draco, I'm so sorry. Sometimes… I just get so self-involved. Molly says I can't be a good wife like that; I'm too selfish.'

'It's okay. Family sucks sometimes, right?' Draco refused to look up, instead focused on the torture of a lone dumpling until it bounced off of his plate.

'Do you know who? I told Ron if it's one of his brothers he needs to have words! We don't care about the past, you're like family to us, and we won't allow any of them to treat you like this, will we, Ron?'

'Of course not, Lav, but maybe this—'

'—It's not right!' Lavender continued. 'Whichever one it was, they will—'

'—It's not a Weasley,' said Draco. His jaw was stiff and his fork, which speared the rogue dumpling, was gripped tightly, so much so it almost speared the table too.

'Oh, that's good… _ish?_ Do you know who it is?'

'Lavender!' I slammed my fist on the table. 'Draco probably doesn't want to discuss the person that his wife cheated with.'

Her eyes were wide, and I felt bad when her lip trembled. She simply nodded her agreement. Suddenly the table was silent. Painfully silent.

After a while, Draco seemed to relax. The dumpling made its way to a napkin and he busied himself with buttering a thick slice of bread. 'Did you bake this?' he asked.

Lavender nodded meekly.

Draco's defeated posture and frown told me he felt guilty for Lavender's clearly hurt feelings. He didn't want to talk about it, but he didn't want her to be upset either. She had always been so kind to him. After the war, when Draco started trying to become an Auror, when we got teamed up it was hard, but she was always so kind to him. She asked him to watch out for me, she was probably the reason that Draco and I were able to become friends. Merlin knows we wouldn't have been able to do it alone.

'It's okay,' he said eventually. 'It's the elephant in the room.'

'No, Draco you don't have to talk about it.' She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. 'I'm sorry, it was insensitive.'

'Ron is right,' he began, 'I don't want to talk about who, because if we're right, it's the worst person imaginable. Maybe you can help me though? I— I don't know what to do— I don't know how much of the blame is mine…

'If Ron — with good reason — took the most treasured things away from you and due to that, you lost the essence of what made you and Ron work. You essentially lost what you and Ron loved about each other, and someone else offered it to you… how much would it take — in that situation — for you to accept? Would you have to be in love?'

Lavender looked furious, her lips thinned and her brow furrowed. 'Don't you dare blame yourself!'

'I'm not, I promise. I do think it's only fair to look at "cause" and "effect". Did I put her in that situation? Would she have done it anyway? Is it redeemable?'

Lavender sighed. 'You _want_ to forgive her, don't you?'

'Does that make me an idiot?'

'It makes Hermione very lucky, right, Lav?' I said.

'Yes, she's so lucky. As for your question: knowing Hermione, she likely believes she's in love, but I don't think this can be love. It sounds more like a replacement, but her morals will need a way to justify her actions. Does that make sense?'

Draco just nodded. There was a slight smile on his face and I knew somewhere in Lavender's words he found hope. Hope that Hermione loved him and there was hope for redemption.

I remember that small moment of peace before the storm. I was watching him, completely in awe of his compassion and growth. I don't think I would have been able to forgive. The peace, however, didn't last long.

We were roused by a harsh banging on the door. The door practically shook with the force of it. My instincts as an Auror took over and my wand was out. I went to the door and muttered a spell under my breath. I immediately pocketed my wand and opened the door a furious looking Severus Snape.

'What sorry excuse for a son are you?' he shouted across the room.

I followed his eye-line to Draco, who looked confused.

'What do you mean? He kicked me out of his life… amongst other things. _He_ doesn't deserve a second chance from me.'

'I have bought you time, but you will fix this, boy. Your father plans to kill himself!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading, please review


	6. Trauma in a Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco had clearly softened during his time with Potter and the Weasleys; I watched him embrace a silly girl devoted to the fluffy art of Divination. Redemption and forgiveness were spoken of so freely, but I knew that it wasn’t freely given. It would not be given to Lucius. He was too tainted, like me. Granger, however, would no doubt earn forgiveness, perhaps even at Lucius’ expense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys - sorry that this one was late. I started this chapter much later, but I was moving house. I’m settled in with my sister for a while before I move to Scotland. I don’t have the internet there, so that also contributed to the length of time it took.

"Dearest Hermione,

I have been torn apart without you, unable to carry on. I find myself trapped, and unable to find a satisfactory conclusion to this whole affair. 

I cannot forget what it felt like to be with you, to hold you in my arms, to feel your body against mine, the feel of my lips on your breasts. I crave it, daily. 

At the same time, I fear Draco finding out. I fear causing him the same pain that I feel now. Being parted from you is a torture I could not wish upon him. I could not wish this pain on my worst enemy. 

For that reason, I fear that I must say goodbye one final time. Once you read this, we shall never meet again. 

Goodbye, My Queen 

Lucius"

As I read the letter for the second time, I was still utterly unable to comprehend the events that had clearly taken place. I thought back to how the note had come to be in my possession; when Lucius had come to collect his potion. 

There had been a hammering at the door, incessant, urgent, adamant to be answered. I had half expected to see Potter there, wanting yet again to bond over his dearly departed mother. My back was already up at that. To my utter surprise, it was none other than Lucius Malfoy. 

I had had my concerns from the moment he had requested that potion. A potion that would have him slip behind the veil of death, comforted by memories of those he loved. It’s not a bad way to go if you have the choice. His actions had been erratic and worrisome of late too; cutting Draco out of his life, diving into the pit of prejudice and distancing himself from everyone. He had also lost Narcissa, who had been his great love. Draco had always told me his concerns, each and every step of the way. I felt like an unwilling therapist to the boy. Now, I had very valid concerns of my own. 

He had stood on the steps, with little concern for how he was seen. His hair was in disarray, his robes crumpled and buttoned incorrectly; as my mother used to say “he looks like nobody owns him”. His face had paled and his eyes were wide and bloodshot. 

‘Your gold,’ he said, and flung the small pouch towards me. 

‘Lucius,’ I began, uncertain of how I could possibly broach the topic. ‘I have … concerns .’

‘If it’s not enough, I can get more.’ His tone was flat, empty. It had no life in it whatsoever. ‘I just want the potion for my new collection. I have another seller, not quite as reputable, but they don’t get all caught up with “concerns.”’ 

‘Do you plan to use the potion?’ I asked. I looked him in the eye, hoping to catch something of his intent. 

‘You think I plan to kill myself?’ Lucius rolled his eyes. He was over the top, like he wanted— needed —me to believe that the idea was ridiculous. 

‘Well, you do look suicidal, and I would know.’ I was casual in my talk of the deep depression that had plagued my life; after all, I would never have spoken to an overly sentimental fool who just wanted to talk about feelings and how it “really would get better” . ‘Your wife did die, you seem to have completely alienated your son, and you’re probably going insane in that huge manor house.’

‘Severus, I don’t want a roommate or a therapist. I want a potion.’ I looked at him and he sighed, holding up one hand, palm forwards. ‘I promise not to off myself, okay?’

My concerns weren’t squashed by any means, but I knew he could go somewhere else, if he had wanted. So, I welcomed him into my home. I told him the potion needed a little more time, but that it would be ready shortly. He sat in the living room, his foot flicking impatiently as he drank a glass of wine. 

It had only taken a few adjustments to the Draught of Living Death. It would look like the infamous ‘death potion’ and Lucius would drift off in a blissful concoction of his happiest dreams. He just wouldn’t die. 

As soon as he had the potion, he had left. That was when I spotted the parchment. It must have fallen out of his pocket. Clearly, it wasn’t meant for my eyes. It didn’t take long to deduce what had happened. His apparent spiral into prejudice now seemed more understandable. It wasn’t genuine, for one. It wasn’t a spiraling into some sort of dementia, as Draco had thought. It was merely a selfish father trying to do his best for his son’s marriage. 

Reading the letter again wouldn’t have gleaned any new information. Clearly, I was Lucius’ only hope. Draco likely despised his father, either because he knew what his father did or because his father called his wife a “Mudblood Bitch”. Granger didn’t get the suicide note, so that left me. I was the only person left who gave any kind of shit about Lucius Malfoy. 

I then Apparated to Wiltshire, close to the Manor. When I arrived outside the gates, the wards wouldn’t let me in. I went home, tried the Floo: no luck. I fire-called: no luck. I expected that he had put all manner of measures in place so he wouldn’t be found. At least not until it was too late. 

I went to a house I had never expected to visit. I had deduced from the letter that Draco would be whining with his new BFF, Weasley. Honestly, sometimes I wonder what happened to his good taste. 

* * *

I hammered on the door, likely frightening the young Aurors within. I heard someone mutter a spell, probably Weasley; he had never grasped non-verbal magic. When he finally opened it, he looked surprised and—I’m proud to say—a little frightened. 

My temper was already at boiling point and seeing Draco being mollycoddled and spoon-fed stew and dumplings only made my ire more intense.

'What sorry excuse for a son are you?' I shouted, the first words I could think of. I stared only at Draco, so he might know exactly what I was talking about. 

'What do you mean? He kicked me out of his life… amongst other things. _He_ doesn't deserve a second chance from me.'

'I have bought you time, but you will fix this, boy. Your father plans to kill himself!'

Draco looked stunned. He just stared at me like I had gone mad, and despite the dire situation, I couldn’t help the stray thought “ _stupid; it’s catching._ ” 

‘I— I don’t care.’ Draco seemed more interested in sopping up gravy and stuffing his face than thinking about his father. 

I had to admit, I was very familiar with the concept of hating one’s father, of wishing them dead and rejoicing at the funeral, but this didn’t ring true. Lucius had been, believe it or not, a good father. Well, up until this point anyway. He deserved… well, he had earned the right to compassion. 

‘Really? ‘Cause Daddy has some views you care not to share, you're willing to stand by while he takes his own life?’ 

It angered me. Lucius had been a relatively loyal friend, and he had lost a lot. He deserved some clemency. Maybe it was the mentality of the Gryffindor that was getting to me. One crime was enough to condemn a man for a life, but a lifetime of loyalty wasn’t enough to earn redemption. Like I said, “stupid was catching”. 

‘You have no idea what he’s done.’

‘You have evidence that he has done something that bears the penalty of death?’ I asked. 

‘I can think of a lot of things, actually,’ Weasley said. 

He looked just as filled with righteous anger as Draco did. I hated that he was now tarred with the same brush as those that would condemn me, hate me, when all I did was save lives. They would never let the likes of me and Lucius off the hook. 

‘I’m not going to him. He had an affair… _with my wife_!’

‘Do you _know_ this?’ I asked. ‘Or is this a silly delusion with no evidence to back it up?’ 

That seemed to change Draco’s tune. There was a slight stiffening of his jaw, a tinge to his cheeks, which he always got when someone spoke down to him. 

‘I would think your father deserved the benefit of the doubt?’ I said, I did my best to infuse it with that disapproving tone of an angry professor. It had always worked on the children at Hogwarts, and making Draco feel like a child always got him to do a U-turn. I hoped he didn’t have proof. If he did, I doubt there would be anything to save Lucius’ life. 

‘How did you buy him time?’ he asked. 

I could tell that he’d had a change in heart, that his view had slowly been changed by someone he considered to be far smarter than him. 

‘Draught of Living Death,’ I said. 

Draco’s face was the picture of horror and concern. It told me that he still cared for his father, that there was indeed hope. I, however, didn’t know how to keep this particular secret hidden. Granger would be far too moral, far too honest to keep it. Her guilt would eventually release it and it would tear this family apart. 

I found that the good opinion I had secretly held of her had diminished. Her heart and her feelings, her need to be right, were far more important to her than this family that she claimed to love. 

‘That’s extreme,’ Ron said. ‘Couldn’t you have done something… less deadly?’

‘Anything else would have aroused suspicion that I knew his intent, and he would have gone to someone else. He would have gone to someone who only cared about gold and not whether he lived or died.’

‘At least it’s reversible,’ Draco said. ‘This way I will at least get the truth.’

‘He’s your father, Draco,’ the curly blonde-haired twit that married Weasley comforted him. ‘It’s only natural for you to still care, to want him to be okay. It’s okay to want to repair that relationship. He’s your dad.’

Draco had clearly softened during his time with Potter and the Weasleys; I watched him embrace a silly girl devoted to the fluffy art of Divination. Redemption and forgiveness were spoken of so freely, but I knew that it wasn’t freely given. It would not be given to Lucius. He was too tainted, like me. Granger, however, would no doubt earn forgiveness, perhaps even at Lucius’ expense. 

‘There is really only one way to find out. I am unable to get into Malfoy Manor. You, however, shouldn’t have any problems.’

‘We should get Hermione, too,’ Draco said. I wondered at that. I wondered how badly this would go if she came along. ‘Despite everything, she’s always been good at looking after him. She can coax him into taking any medicinal potions.’

We walked over to the Floo. ‘So, St Mungo’s then.’

* * *

We had been able to get into the manor. Draco, being the heir, could not be stopped from entering. The house was dark and gloomy, and there wasn’t a single sound aside from the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the entrance hall. 

‘Point me,’ I whispered. 

I immediately followed the directions, while Draco and Granger followed. I had been pleased to see just how ashamed she looked when we arrived at her office. How painful it was to hear what Lucius had chosen to do. How she restrained herself from crumbling before Draco and admitting the truth that she was the reason. Once in the house I had barely given her a second thought.

The directions led me to a large and ornately decorated bedroom. Everything silver and the darkest blue. The silk curtains blocked out the light. The room was pristine, everything in order, hung on the wardrobe were a set of women’s robes: Narcissa’s robes. 

‘It’s Mother’s room,’ Draco whispered. 

Beneath the Prussian blue sheets, lay Lucius. His dark attire seemed to camouflage him with the bed, except for the shock of white-blond hair and his deathly pale face. 

'Dad!’ Draco cried out as he ran over to his father. 

He had never called him ‘dad’. It was always the more proper, formal-sounding, ‘father’. He seemed now like a little boy, frightened and needy, and so it seemed a more child-like title needed to be given. He needed to show that level of love and adoration. I could only imagine the guilt he now felt after our last talk. 

Hermione stood behind me. She seemed to be hiding as she wiped tears that streamed down her cheek. I wanted more than anything to point out that this was entirely her fault. I wanted to rub salt in the wounds. I wanted her to understand exactly what she had done. I have always been rather vengeful, but I restrained myself. Draco deserved to remember his father as loyal. She’d ruined that image.

‘You do seem very upset,’ I said. ‘I mean, didn’t he throw you out of the house, declare you too filthy to behold?’ I looked down my nose at her. She squirmed at my words, the guilt easily seen as it twisted inside of her. I felt somewhat satisfied.

‘I— I d—don’t know what that was a—about, but I don’t believe it,’ she said in a hushed voice, clearly she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Tough luck. 

‘Draco, I think it best if Hermione is to try and revive him right away.’ 

I glanced back at her, her hands fidgeting with the wooden box that contained her healer kit. Panicking and probably a little frightened, I watched her approach her patient. 

‘It won’t happen quickly,’ she said. ‘The amount of time depends on how long he’s been under.’

‘He came to me for the potion about an hour before I reached Draco,’ I said. She then estimated that he had been under perhaps an hour to an hour and a half. This was good, apparently. 

She was less nervous now, rummaging through her kit, making notes and quizzing me on the changes I made to the potion. Lucius was under at least another hour before she had a workable potion together, which fizzed and popped in the vial. It was a perfect brew, from what I could remember. 

‘Draco,’ she said, ‘can you hold him up? I need to pour the potion down his throat.’

Draco lifted his father and sat behind him. He cradled his head, gentle as she poured the concoction down his throat. The way he held him up so he didn’t choke was more of an embrace and I watched the guilt bubble in Granger's eyes once more. 

‘I can leave you,’ she said. ‘He’ll need to be supported, but I don’t think your dad will want to see me. It’s probably best if I’m not here.’ 

She was packing up her things, ready to run away like the coward she was. But Draco was determined, said he doubted his father meant those words, and that she had always been good at treating him. Draco wanted the truth. I wondered if he would get it. I wondered if the family would survive. 

It took three hours before Lucius started to stir. Draco had adjusted him, piled pillows behind him so he was sitting up. Draco remained by his side, his arm still behind him, ready to support him at any moment. Granger sat at the end of the bed looking like she wished she were anywhere else. 

That was when the coughing started. I sat in the corner and watched as Granger got to work. There was very little I could do to help, really. 

Lucius’ eyes opened and a strangled sob escaped. Only one word was decipherable: 

‘Cissy!’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please kudos and comment.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented so far, they have made my day!


	7. Revelations in the Vault - Pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The small cottage had become a lonely home. I had been placed on the Manor’s grounds, but no longer in the main house. It was like being demoted. No longer a Malfoy, but not yet discarded; maybe when Daria Malfoy is seventeen I will be. I had never expected it. I didn’t know why. 
> 
> I watched Draco play with his daughter, Daria. She was still so tiny; as she lay on a play mat, he leaned over pulling funny faces and shaking her rattle. I was glad that she was Draco’s. It had given me hope for reconciliation. I couldn’t help but smile as Draco blew a raspberry on her belly. It seemed so normal. It seemed like real family time. 
> 
> ‘Can you stay for dinner?’ I asked.
> 
> It pulled his attention away and his smile faded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter
> 
> You guys have reviewed, commented and kudosed so much. I want to thank you all, it’s given me confidence in my writing like never before. You’ve all been so encouraging and inspired me to continue. Thank you all so much. 
> 
> This was supposed to be the last chapter, but there will be one more. It really needs another POV to wrap things up. 
> 
> Thanks to Neji, my beta since Chapter 2, you’ve been beyond helpful.

oOo The Cottage on the Manor Grounds oOo

The small cottage had become a lonely home. I had been placed on the Manor’s grounds, but no longer in the main house. It was like being demoted. No longer a Malfoy, but not yet discarded; maybe when Daria Malfoy is seventeen I will be. I had never expected it. I didn’t know why. 

I watched Draco play with his daughter, Daria. She was still so tiny; as she lay on a play mat, he leaned over pulling funny faces and shaking her rattle. I was glad that she was Draco’s. It had given me hope for reconciliation. I couldn’t help but smile as Draco blew a raspberry on her belly. It seemed so normal. It seemed like real family time. 

‘Can you stay for dinner?’ I asked.

It pulled his attention away and his smile faded. 

‘Sorry,’ he said, turning back to Daria. ‘I have a date.’ He smiled at the baby, as thought he hadn’t just made my entire world collapse. 

‘A date?’

Draco picked up his daughter, keeping his back to me. He walked to the nursery, ignoring me. I could tell he had been wanting to have this talk for a while. I could tell he had also been avoiding it. 

‘What about the couples counselling? What’s the point in that? I thought we were making progress?’

He was too busy wrapping our daughter in her blankets and placing her in the crib. He had no attention left for me. 

‘We’ve really been talking lately, not fighting… I-I love you, Draco!’

‘And I love you.’ 

The words came out of his mouth more easily than they had come out of mine. The way he said it, though, sounded like it wasn’t a good thing. 

‘As long as we have that, we can work through anything.’ I walked over, my hands wrapping around his front, embracing him. I wanted to show him what he could have. 

‘Don’t.’

I loosened my grip, as though his words burned, but I couldn’t let go completely. I knew that each touch and embrace was precious, each one could be my last. ‘I’m not trying to push you. I promise. I just…’

‘Just ‘cause it’s not sex, it doesn’t mean it’s not pushing.’

His firm, strong hands gripped mine, pulling them away. He pushed me back, wanting as much distance between us as possible. 

‘What am I allowed to do then?’ I couldn’t stop the bitterness from seeping into my voice. I felt trapped, begging for whatever scraps he would give. I no longer held the right to fight my case. I was the guilty party this time, and it wasn’t something that I was used to. 

‘I don’t want you to do anything,’ he said, finally looking at me. He frowned at me, his lips pressed in a thin, hard line, his jaw clenched. Everything was stiff, unmoving, unfeeling and most importantly, uncaring. 

I felt my lip tremble. No matter how I tried to be as stoic as he was, my lip betrayed me. It showed him just how broken I was. 

‘H-how do I fix this?’ 

‘You let my father go down on you in your office. I can’t love you enough to erase that.’

That was when I saw the glimmer of emotion, a break in the uncaring fortress he hid behind. Tears, for a moment, shone in his eyes, and then he blinked them away. 

‘So what? The counselling?’ I stuttered unformed questions, unable to even think coherently. I was so wrong to have had any hope, but I had. His words were so cutting and direct, that in that moment I realised just how foolish that hope was. ‘What was the point? Did you want to get my hopes up? Did you want to punish me?’

Draco stiffened . He didn’t answer though, not yet. He walked out of the nursery. That’s when I knew things would get heated then. Things always got loud and angry whenever I told Draco he could be wrong.

He closed the door quietly. His wand waved, subtly — a silencing charm. 

‘Is that what you really think of me?’ he said, his eyes narrowing. ‘After all this time, you think I would punish you so cruelly?’

It wasn’t the man I knew. He wouldn’t do that. ‘That’s what it feels like.’ 

‘I wish I never knew,’ he said. ‘I wish I could forget. I wanted to fix this so fucking much.’

Remaining stoic, firm, was a thing of the past. Realisation hit. ‘But you can’t. I broke us too much.’

_ oOo The Night Lucius Woke oOo _

_ ‘Cissy.’ _

_ My heart sank. I didn’t know why. After all, it was better for me if Draco never found out who I cheated with. This was the moment I realised I had risked everything for something that meant nothing. Something that was a bandage for mine and Lucius’ pain. _

_ The truth had come out, of course. Snape had tried to stop it, but for some reason, Draco had asked his father out right. I stood there, perplexed. How had he guessed?  _

_ ‘Father, I need to know the truth,’ he had said. ‘I want to be here for you, like I should have been before, but I need to know if you were the one that—’ _

_ ‘The very idea is preposterous, Draco,’ Snape had said, trying desperately to clean up the mess. I had no idea what his reasons were, but he wasn’t on my side. He glared at me, sneered; if he could slip a degrading comment in there, all the better.  _

_ The revelation that I had cheated didn’t make the man think better of me. What was shocking was that he didn’t seem surprised. Most people would be. He really thought that little of me. I remember how he looked at me, and I thought, “I deserve this.” _

_ He didn’t understand. That had become my tagline. _

_ ‘Your father would never—’ he said. _

_ ‘I– I did.’ Lucius looked empty, ravaged, torn apart.  _

_ I remembered what he said when he woke. “Cissy.” _

_ ‘Don’t blame her… it was me. The hospital, that was me. She didn’t want to, but I … you don’t need details. It was me.’  _

_ ‘The hospital?’ Draco had looked confused. _

_ Of course, he did. I had only gone back to the hospital after we left the manor, after I had told him, “It was just once. It will never happen again.” _

_ ‘You had sex with my dad at the hospital? Was this the night after you told me you would never even see him again?’ _

_ I realised then, in that moment, that had I said “no” at the hospital, I would have had his forgiveness. I watched as it slipped away. _

_ ‘I didn’t have sex; I stopped it. I promised it would never happen again, and I meant it. I never intended to see him, but by chance, he ended up in my office for an exam. You need to see things from my point of view!’  _

_ ‘Your point of view? You have got to be FUCKING kidding me!’ _

_ I closed my eyes. I knew I shouldn’t have said that the moment the words left my mouth. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, please see my point of view. You hadn’t come back from Ron’s… I was devastated. You’re my everything.’ _

_ Draco laughed. He looked genuinely amused. The crazed smile and wide eyes told me that it was a very bad thing. ‘So, what? You were so distraught you gave my father a hand-job? A quick blowie?’ _

_ ‘I did nothing!’ I shouted. I was desperate for him to understand; I was not an active participant. ‘I just took too long to say “no”.’ _

_ ‘Tell me. What happened?’ he asked with biting anger, and I knew he didn’t want to know, not really.  _

_ ‘You told me you wished you never knew. If I tell you, there’s no going back.’ My eyes pleaded for clemency, begged him to say it was okay, but when I thought about what I was asking him to dismiss… I had no chance. _

_ ‘I need to know how much you participated. You swore it was over. I need to know.’ _

_ I told him how I had completed a full medical. How I was detached and professional. I told him how his father had become aroused anyway. How he told me to lock the door while he masterbated… how he commanded me and I followed every order. With each word I spoke… I knew it was the end. I was guilty as charged. _

_ Draco sniggered, looking less and less like the man I loved. He devolved into something else, something cruller, something meaner. ‘That’s your “I just didn’t say ‘no’ quick enough?” You have got to be shitting me. It’s kinky as fuck. Daddy Dom, is that what I wasn’t giving you?’ _

_ ‘I want you to forgive me,’ I said pathetically. ‘I guess for that you need to know what you’re forgiving. In that moment I felt loved and accepted — as wrong as it was — it’s hard to turn that down when your husband won’t come home, when your husband can’t even look at you. _

_ ‘I didn’t get that feeling though. I felt empty and hollow. As soon as I had… finished.’ _

_ ‘How did he make you come?’ Draco asked. _

_ Severus had sat there watching. All that he would have needed was popcorn as he relished in my complete humiliation.  _

_ I cried. ‘Draco, please.’ _

_ Draco sneered at me. I felt like one of those Knockturn Alley girls because that was exactly how he looked at me. _

_ ‘Tell me HOW! If you want even a sliver of a chance, you tell me everything.’ _

_ ‘He licked me.’  _

_ That was my lowest point. As humiliated as I had been, there was nothing lower. The horrors of war, the torture of Bellatrix Lestrange, nothing made me feel as worthless as this.  _

_ ‘Who’s better?’ he asked, wanting to rub the salt in my tender, agonising wounds. ‘Me or my father?’ _

_ ‘DRACO!’ Lucius shouted.  _

_ I hadn’t expected him to stand up for me. I didn’t see his face. I couldn’t bear to look up. I couldn’t watch him defend me. All I thought was, “I deserve this.” _

_ ‘Don’t you dare treat her like this!” he continued, as though I were some saint.  _

_ I was not. I was a harlot, cheap, nasty. I did this. I deserved this.  _

_ ‘Shut up, old man! I am this close to granting your death wish.’  _

_ I forgot about that new low. Worse than admitting that I allowed my father-in-law to lick me to orgasm, was seeing how you obliterated his relationship with your husband; his son.  _

_ ‘Draco!’ Severus shouted sharply, and I really wondered why, Draco was the only one with any moral standing. ‘That is your father!’ He was every bit the scolding professor, though I was sure that it was the first time he spoke to Draco like that.  _

_ ‘Really? That  _ father _ dived head first into my wife’s pussy! Oh, sorry,  _ wife _ , am I being too crude?’ Draco turned back to Snape. He wasn’t as tall as the Potions Master, but that didn’t stop him from getting into his face, pushing him back. ‘This is my manor now. My father would have already set that in motion. You’re not welcome anymore. You’re officially banished.’ _

_ Severus had no choice but to leave, but even if he had, the house-elf — who was paid, by the way, I had made sure of that — took him off the premises. I was lucky it wasn’t me. I was lucky there was a smaller audience for my disgrace. _

_ The manor was silent then. No one dared talk. I wondered if Draco was waiting for me to answer the question, but how could I? _

_ ‘Draco,’ I said finally, ‘I’m sorry. I know it’s ridiculously pathetic as a response to this. I know it’s not enough, and I know I don’t deserve it, but I am begging your forgiveness.’ It was out of reach, but I needed him so much, I begged. I, Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy (for now at least), got on my knees and begged at my husband’s feet. _

_ ‘I should have known,’ he said, as he looked down at me. His nose scrunched in a snarl I hadn’t received since Hogwarts. ‘The way we started. I knew you were capable.’ _

_ ‘This is nothing like you, me and Ron. Me and Ron were over, we just hadn’t admitted it yet. I fell in love with you. It wasn’t a quick shag in a vault because we were in pain.’ _

_ He looked at me with a silky smile, his eyebrow cocked. ‘Let’s not forget Daddy Dom.’ _

_ ‘I get it. You’re angry. You get to be angry, but humiliating me like this, that is beneath the man that I love.’ _

_ I don’t know how I managed to find moral high-ground, but I did. I don’t know how or why I decided to make him the bad guy. I deserved this after all. It’s the one constant in my mind. Karma, she’s a fucking bitch.  _

_ ‘Really? You get that I’m  _ angry.’  _ He laughed, almost sounding light and carefree, but there was no joy in his eyes, just anger. ‘I am so much more than ANGRY. _

_ ‘You’re pregnant, Hermione! No matter what, I have no escape. That’s what you’ve done to me. You’ve trapped me here with you in this cycle of agonising pain. Inside you, it’s either my child or my sibling.’ The first tear left his eye as he was no longer able to hold them at bay. ‘I HATE you for that.’ _

_ Draco finally broke. The anger faded and all that was left were tears.  _

  
  


oOo The Cottage on the Manor Grounds oOo

‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘It’s just not fixable.’

I cried as I watched him get ready to leave. He collected his robe, his good one, the one he wore on date nights. I should have known. He wrapped it around himself and glanced in the mirror as he fixed a wayward strand of platinum hair.

I watched him walk out of the door, ready to go on his date. 

‘If you change your mind,’ I called after him, and he looked back at me, ‘I’ll be waiting.’

_ oOo The Night Lucius Woke oOo _

_ Lucius had assured Draco that the child could not be his. He assured him that it was an impossibility.  _

_ I begged. I sobbed. I explained my heartbreak.  _

_ Lucius explained his desperation, his loneliness. His need to have Cissy back. He swore that there was nothing there, he begged on my behalf. He told Draco how his memories had told him that. He woke, and the love he thought he felt was replaced yet again with a longing for his deceased wife. _

_ Draco knew everything.  _

_ Somehow, somewhere, we ended up talking about forgiveness. It had taken hours. It was the early hours of the morning, and I wondered if lack of sleep had made him cave. I remember fearing that when he went to sleep and woke up, he would hate me again. This wasn’t like my pleading for forgiveness. We discussed if it were possible. How would life look for this innocent child? How would  _ our  _ child be raised? _

_ ‘It’s not that easy, Hermione. You think I don’t love you anymore, that I don’t want to go back? It would be so much easier if I didn’t.’ _

_ ‘I know it won’t be easy, but we love each other so much. We can move past this. I’ll do anything. Counselling. I’ll bear my shame in the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly. I’ll give Rita Skeeter free reign, let her punish me as much as she can.’ _

_ Draco had sat on the floor, his head in his hands. I sat beside him, my hands clutching his robes, anything to draw him close to me. He looked up and gave me a sad smile. _

_ ‘That’s not what I need,’ he said. _

_ ‘What do you need? Draco, tell me, and I will make it happen.’ _

_ He heaved a sigh. ‘We'll go to counselling. We can see if it’s possible.’ _

oOo The Cottage on the Manor Grounds oOo

I sat on the plush sofa in the cottage. I thought about the apartment we sold, the counselling sessions we had attended, and how it had all given me hope. Hope is a deadly weapon, far more crippling than fear. It controls you in a way fear never could. 

When I was placed in this cottage and Draco went to the mansion, the hope started to fade. My hope was held together by the finest thread, so delicate and yet it had so much power over me.

I was close enough to be looked after, close enough for him to see his daughter whenever he wanted. I was far enough away that I didn’t cause him pain. I could be forgotten at will.

Lucius remained in the mansion. He was never seen; not by Draco and certainly not by me. The House-Elf cared for him. Draco had been unable to even contemplate moving forward with his father. Heartbreak be damned.

Draco Malfoy held the monopoly on heartbreak.

  
  


_ oOo The Night Lucius Woke oOo _

_ ‘Draco. My son,’ Lucius had said.  _

_ He had quietly watched the progress, the pain and the agony of it all and he wanted it for himself. It was my fault he didn’t get it. I would carry that for the rest of my life.  _

_ ‘I wasn’t myself. Losing your mother, it broke my heart. You must forgive me, it wasn’t  _ my  _ fault.’ _

_ The problem is, he argued that it wasn’t my fault either. Someone had to take the blame. Someone had to pay the price.  _

_ Those words and that idea had reignited the embers of Draco’s ire. He should have known how tenuous the situation was. He should have known how easily he could inadvertently fan the flames.  _

_ ‘It’s not your fault? So, when you gave her that necklace, the one you’re so fond of, the one mother never wore — wasn’t allowed to wear — you were just so devastated by your dead wife, you got a raging boner and decided your son’s wife was the remedy? The wife who was caring for you? The woman who had nursed your sick wife for over a year?’ _

_ ‘Draco, what you have to understand—’ _

_ ‘—No! You don’t understand heartbreak. _ I  _ understand heartbreak.’ _

_ ‘The love of my life died!’ Lucius had shouted. Finally he was confrontational. He stood over Draco. _

_ I imagined that this was how Lucius had trained his son, using his authority to brow-beat him into submission. The height advantage worked so well in intimidating a child, but Draco wasn’t a child anymore. He wasn’t intimidated. I saw the switch go, the sympathy turning off. He had picked who he would blame. _

_ ‘I would rather Hermione was dead than suffer like this!’ _

_ Nothing has ever hurt me as much as those words. I doubt anything ever will. _

oOo The Cottage on the Manor Grounds oOo

Memories of that night were my comfort and my torment. As I lay alone on the sofa, that night swam in my mind. It was the same every day. I woke up missing him, wondering why he wasn’t in my bed. Why he wasn’t playing with Daria before work. 

When Daria woke, she was everything. She was my distraction, from morning until night. I was lulled into a dream life where everything was okay. An illusion. 

Daria would have her feed in time for Draco to come home. He would soothe and burp his daughter, play with her and bathe her. Draco would settle her to sleep while I cooked dinner. It almost felt like he was coming home to me and our child. It almost felt like we were a family. I watched him and I felt complete. 

That beautiful illusion shattered when he walked out of the door. 

Daria was asleep. There was nothing to distract me from the ache in my heart. A book will try, but the night always ended the same way. 

I curled up on the sofa. I tried to hold myself together. I failed. I fell apart, and I saw no hope. I had no one but myself to blame. So wrapped up in my agony, I didn’t hear the front door creak. 

I didn’t hear the footsteps. I barely noticed the pressure on the sofa. 

His arms around me. I felt that. I crumbled as he spoke.

‘I’m sorry.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please comment and kudos


	8. Resolutions from the Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'I'm sorry,' I said.
> 
> I felt Hermione freeze in my arms, and then she melted. She pulled my arms tightly around her, and I couldn't help it; my lips found her neck, and I peppered her with light kisses. I felt as her hands reached back, and her fingers ran through my hair.
> 
> She pulled away and turned around with a look of horror on her face.
> 
> 'Lucius? What on earth are you doing?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not own Harry Potter
> 
> Firstly, I want to thank you all for being great readers, great reviewers and I want to thank Neji who has been my beta, and a great beta at that!
> 
> Welcome to the definitive chapter, the last stop, and any choices I make now are final. There will be no more cliffhangers! I hope you enjoy the resolution I went with; I think there will be some disappointment either way because I have had Lumione and Dramione fans love this.
> 
> Beta: Neji

Resolutions from the Vault

'I'm sorry,' I said.

I felt Hermione freeze in my arms, and then she melted. She pulled my arms tightly around her, and I couldn't help it; my lips found her neck, and I peppered her with light kisses. I felt as her hands reached back, and her fingers ran through my hair.

She pulled away and turned around with a look of horror on her face.

'Lucius? What on earth are you doing?' Her eyes were wide, her arms covering her chest, as though she were ashamed. She backed up off of the sofa and put more distance between us.

'I came to see you. Draco has all but abandoned you; I had to make sure you were okay. I saw what he did, leaving you heartbroken.

'He'll never have you back, Hermione. The only reason you're here is that I changed my will. You have equal ownership of the manor.'

She shook her head, trying to deny everything that I had said. She stood with her back against the wall, and I saw the pain, the effect my words had on her. They might be true.

'We can be happy,' I said. I wanted to convince her. I had to know how she felt; I had to see the truth.

'No!' she said. Her voice was firm, and she no longer looked wary.

She balled her hands into fists, and her face showed no trace of the sadness I saw before. She was furious. I had to know: was there a chance?

'Hermione…' I walked over to her, slowly, trying not to startle her. 'Please.' I reached her hand, cupping her face. I watched her expression soften, and her eyes closed. She melted. Was there a chance?

I leaned in, my eyes focused on her petite, pink lips. I was just about to press my lips to hers when I felt pressure on my chest.

'I said, "no", Lucius!'

She pushed me back. When I glanced up, I saw the tears in her eyes. I knew that she wanted it; she just needed me to convince her.

'He'll never forgive you,' I said, 'so why deprive yourself?'

Her tears then started to fall.

'Because I love him. I would rather put all my hope in him and endure the disappointment of failure than have one more moment with you and lose him forever.'

I thought she meant it. She seemed so sure, but maybe— I walked over to her again, closing the distance she created. I wrapped my arms around her, and she let me.

'I love you too.'

'But I don't love you.' She stayed where she was as she said it, her head buried in my black velvet robes. 'You don't understand,' she continued. 'You had your love. You and Cissy had a whole life together; a life full of love and passion. Draco and I had about five years, maybe six. I won't give up on that.

'He's my everything. I would rather have nothing, and still have hope for him.'

I glanced at the clock. There was time.

'He'll never know, I promise.'

'Yes, he would. I would tell him.' She backed up again and wiped away her tears. She didn't look torn at all.

'Hermione…'

She turned and left. I stood there waiting for her, wondering if she would come back. She did, and she carried a velvet box, holding it out to me.

'This is for you,' she said. 'I don't want to be the girl you want but can't have anymore.'

I opened the box. There was the necklace, white gold with delicate diamond flowers. It was the necklace that belonged on the neck of a queen. I pocketed it.

I knew.

'You should go,' she said. 'I won't tell Draco this time, but if you come back again, I _will_ tell him.'

I was so focused on her face, trying to decipher any lie, any reason to doubt. She was furious, and I believed every word she said.

'You would keep tonight to yourself?' I asked.

'Just this once, and only because I hate myself for coming between you and Draco. You don't deserve it, Lucius.'

I smiled, and it broke my character. I couldn't help it; my time was running out anyway.

'Go!' she shouted. 'Stop standing there like you've won! You haven't. You don't win. Go away!'

She didn't see what I already felt. My flesh and bone were shifting and changing. It was easy to see when it registered, her face.

Her guard dropped. There was a brief look of confusion and then her wide eyes and the way her jaw dropped showed her realisation.

I was changing. My long silver hair crawled up my back, my cheekbones shifted just a little higher, and I felt my father's more pronounced jaw recede.

Tears started to fall from her eyes as she realised who I was.

'Draco?' Her lips trembled, and she frowned, creasing her brow—angry. 'Why?'

'I— I needed to know.' I knew what I had done had hurt her, but… 'I had to know, I'm sorry.'

She laughed at that. 'You tried very hard to convince me to sleep with you while polyjuicing as your father! But you're sorry. I guess that's okay then!'

'If you had said yes, I wouldn't have gone through with it!'

'I guess I'll have to trust you on that one.' She folded her arms and looked down at me. She looked good with the moral high ground. 'You know, if I reported you, you could get convicted of an attempted sex crime!'

'I know; I'm an Auror.' I hoped she would see my side.

'Why? Is this punishment? And don't give me that "I needed to know" bullshit. Tell me why. Exactly why.'

'Because as much as I want you back, all I can see is him. I'm always wondering, would you do it again? Now, I know. I know you wouldn't.' I looked at her pleadingly. 'Can you understand that?'

She said nothing.

'I thought, since you are far more forgiving than me, breaking your trust was worth the risk. I thought it might bring us back together, Hermione.'

'So, you're taking advantage of my forgiving nature? What if I don't want to be that person? What if I can't forgive when you're manipulating me into it?' She turned her back to me, and I imagined she was furious but thankful. I hoped she was thankful.

'There was no other way.' It was a pathetic cliche, and I knew it. It was all I had.

She laughed, but it wasn't bright and airy. It was hollow and cynical. 'This is fucked up!'

'I know.'

'Seriously, Draco. This relationship is toxic. The only way we can trust each other is through manipulation, coercion, and hurting each other more and more. What am I supposed to do now? I'm so angry that I want to pay you back; I want you to feel as violated as I feel.'

'Violated?' I felt the anger start to rise, deep trenches that travelled across my brow, and I wondered how she had the nerve. 'You think you say "no" to sex once and all of a sudden I have no moral standing?'

When she turns around, she glares at me. 'And what if I wanted to have sex with your father and not you? What if I saw you change partway through your little test? It would be rape, Draco. I don't know about you, but that certainly trumps adultery!'

'YOU KNOW I WOULD NEVER!' I couldn't help but shout, her words only added to the fury that had built inside of me.

'There are so many ways you could have done this, but this is what you chose. I know you're angry, and you want to punish me, so how do I know you wouldn't go that far? We don't have trust anymore. I know, I started this, and now I'm going to finish it. I'm not letting us become this abusive couple. My daughter deserves more.'

I was shocked. I believed everything she had said. She had broken us, but I had destroyed us.

She walked away, and I thought that was the end.

* * *

I stood outside Ron and Lavender's little house. It was a quaint country cottage, modest, and there was a time when I would have mocked that. Instead, I found myself hovering on the doorstep, wary of what Ron and Lavender would make of the mess that I had made. I had to force myself to knock and wait for Ron to answer.

'What on earth did you do?'

That was the first thing Ron said when he opened the door to me. He looked half amused and half angry. The only thought that registered was that this is where Hermione had come.

'You've seen her?' I asked.

'Yeah. She was pissed! She accused me of giving you the brain dead idea.' He opened the door wider, allowing me into the house.

'I didn't think it was _that_ bad. I thought when she realised I was over the whole cheating thing, it would be okay.'

Ron rolled his eyes. He was a smug bastard sometimes. He loved it when he was right; he liked to rub his "rightness" in your face. He was about as unbearable as Hermione.

'Well, I had nothing else. I mean, it wasn't that bad. It's not like we would have done anything…'

I followed Ron into the immaculate house. Lavender was in the kitchen, cleaning and wiping up surfaces. She looked up, and I smiled. I think that's the first time she has ever looked at me with such venom.

'Lavender has been talking to Hermione about it. They've been able to understand each other—you know—because of Greyback.'

I was shocked that what I had done had even been compared to that, to an attack so vicious.

'What? What I did was nothing like that! I love Hermione. I just needed to trust her again.'

Lavender looked at me, dead in the face. 'There are so many ways you could have dealt with this, Draco. You chose to make her vulnerable, to take advantage of her! Just because you didn't lay a finger on her, doesn't mean it's not a _violation_!'

'Lav— please!' I pleaded. 'I didn't mean it like that. You know I love her.'

Tears welled up in Lavender's eyes. 'That only makes it worse.'

I didn't know what to do, what to say. This house had become so comfortable to me lately, like a second home. Now, I doubted that Lavender would allow me to stay much longer, never mind make me a cup of coffee.

'What do I do?' I asked.

She pulled a mug out of a cupboard. 'Time. I think she knows why, and I even think she understands. It doesn't change how betrayed she feels, even if she knows you would have never done anything.

'I know you never wanted to hurt her. I know you just wanted to trust her and to be able to move on. You want to have your family back. It's just going to take time.

'I'm still angry at you though, Draco Malfoy. You do not treat your wife like that. Do you hear me?'

'Yes, of course. You'll help me make it right, though?' I pleaded with her, and eventually, her frown melted and rolled her eyes.

'Fine!' Lavender finally smiled. 'I'll even let you stay for dinner, as long as you do whatever I say?'

I was shocked. I was relieved; Lavender and Ron had been there for me so much, losing them too would have been hard. I also knew that I couldn't fix this without Lavender's help.

She continued to tell me that Hermione needed some time. I didn't think that time would be enough; Lavender had made me understand exactly why Hermione was so hurt. I was starting to believe that there was nothing I could do to make things right. After I had dinner with them, I went home.

The cottage was dark. I knocked, and there was no answer. As I walked back to the manor, I hoped that time really would heal our marriage. I left Hermione alone for a long while. I missed her and Daria. All I could think was that while I gave her space, she didn't know that I understood and that I was sorry.

* * *

Finally, Hermione let me in. I begged and pleaded. I explained myself, and that it was a bad decision, but I never wanted to hurt her. I just needed to remove my father from the equation. She still insisted that our relationship was broken—toxic.

'I know,' I said. 'That can be fixed. _We_ can be fixed.'

'You have Lavender to thank, you know. I mean, she understood how I felt, but she also showed me that anyone could find themselves in a situation where they might do things they wouldn't usually.' Her beautiful brown eyes met mine, and finally, the force that clamped around my chest began to ease.

'She's a good friend, right?' I smiled. 'Better than Ginny!'

'I swear, I was going to tell you. Ginny just got there before me.'

Suddenly we were addressing her sins again. It made me relax, which made me sick. I knew that part of me was grateful for her guilt, but I didn't want that to be the reason she forgave me, or why I would forgive her.

'I was confused and guilty, but I was sane enough to know that you don't tell Harry Potter if you want to keep a secret.'

I laughed, and when she laughed with me, things started to feel more natural.

'That's true,' I replied. 'We can see someone. We can go to a new therapist or the same therapist. It's up to you. We'll get back what we had. It's what I want, and in my own messed up way, I was trying to fix us.'

'I know.' She reached over. 'It will take a lot of work. Both of us will have to let go of blame, the desire to punish each other. Can you do that? Can you accept that you wouldn't be able to hold it against me anymore?' She looked afraid, and I knew she felt like me, worried that we wouldn't be able to forgive each other.

'Yes.' I knew I could. 'I just needed to know it wouldn't happen again, that's all.'

'What about your father?' she asked.

'I can't.'

'If you can forgive me, then why not him?'

Hermione always liked to push me to be better, to do better. She did it at Hogwarts, in my work, in our relationship, so I was not surprised she did it now. It was a small taste of who we used to be.

'I can't.'

* * *

_**Fifteen Years Later...** _

'Daria, get your backside down here now!' Hermione yelled upstairs. The Sonorous charm carried her voice to my daughter's bedroom on the top floor.

Hermione was as beautiful as ever, even though her brown hair had strands of grey, and her eyes had more lines. She had the same slender frame, the same creamy brown skin and clear complexion. She still favoured blouses and pencil skirts as opposed to the robes that others wore.

'You know she's less likely to listen when you yell,' I said.

She shrugged. 'We're late. The ward has strict visiting hours; if we don't get there—'

'It'll be okay,' I said, wrapping my arm around her.

'It's been fifteen years, Draco. Can you forgive him? Please.'

Arguing about my father was the only thing that stood between Hermione and I. She still wanted me to let it go, to forgive the father that had had sex with my wife. I couldn't let it go, even after fifteen years.

'Can we not do this now?' I hissed. 'Daria will be down any moment.'

As if on my command, she appeared on the top of the stairs wearing the most ridiculous outfit. She was as pale as me with my grey eyes, but her long, straight hair was jet black. She had dyed it a few weeks before. I had been furious; she had looked just like my mother before, though her hair was decidedly more unruly in its natural state. Daria rarely wore her hair in its natural state.

'You get back to your room and change. Now!' I shouted.

'She's less likely to listen if you shout like that.' Hermione had almost giggled.

'Dad, you're such a loser. This is fashion; it's self-expression and your vibes… Well, they are oppressive!'

Her outfit was jet black. She wore ridiculously short jeans, which were ripped and had so many holes in them that they covered very little. Her black jumper had just as many holes in it, and the long sleeves reached past her fingers.

'I don't give a damn! You're going to see your grandfather in St Mungo's, seeing you practically nude will probably finish him off! Get changed now!'

She sulked, her lower lip drooping, a twinkle of silver caught the light.

'DID YOU PIERCE YOUR LIP?' Hermione screeched.

Daria's expression changed, and she turned. 'It's been pierced for ages.' She was likely telling the truth. She looked panicked and probably forgot to hide the latest appearance choice she had made. 'It's no big deal; Muggles do it all the time.'

'I don't care! You are not allowed to poke holes in your face without my express permission.' Hermione looked as though she was about to tackle Daria to the ground and remove the piercing herself.

'I'm sixteen!' Daria shouted. 'Soon, I'll legally be an adult, and you won't be able to stop me from expressing myself. James Potter likes it.'

'James Potter? Why do we care what he likes?' I asked, and she smiled at me in that girlish way that told me she cared about what James Potter thought. Suddenly, I didn't really care for Harry or his family. Despite the fact that we had been friends for years and he was my boss. 'Get changed now. We're late!'

She turned around, walking up the stairs. 'Why do you care? You don't even like Pop-pop.'

'Should we be getting her a therapist?' I asked as I watched Daria leave. 'I was concerned when she started to dye her beautiful blonde hair, but now she only wants to wear black, she's piercing herself…'

'Nah. I spoke to Lavender about it. Apparently, Hugo and Daria have been listening to some Muggle "emo band". They've decided to start a band, and they want to look the part.'

'You don't need holes in your face to play music. I'm also pretty sure that you don't need to be half-naked!'

Hermione laughed. 'Thank your lucky stars she had a longer top. The other day it was the same shorts with a crop top, and she wanted to go to Hugo's. She said they were just hanging out in his room. I swear, I nearly had a heart attack.'

We stood there in silence, mainly because my daughter—my baby girl—had grown up and decided that this was who she wanted to be. I had no issue with the music, but hanging out with boys in nought but her skin was a huge concern.

'So,' Hermione said, 'about your dad… The letter… He's not got much time left, and you'll regret it if you don't. Does he deserve to die, believing that his son hates him?'

Father had been in a long-stay ward at St Mungo's for over a year. Every week we would visit. Daria would talk to him all day. She adored him, and he doted on her. Hermione would check his charts and talk to doctors. She would chastise him for whatever he was doing to make the Healers' lives more difficult. I would sit in the room and witness it all. Father and I didn't engage. We hadn't since the night I found out he slept with my wife.

'Personally, I think he deserves it.'

'Draco!'

'I do. That is how I feel, Hermione.' She didn't reply. She never pushed this topic as hard as she would push anything else. She was careful to never be on his side. 'I know I'll regret it if I don't, but I don't know if I can do it.'

Her hand slipped into mine, and she squeezed my hand. 'I'm sorry. I took him from you.'

'No, you didn't. Everything he has done throughout my life led to this. It was just the last straw.'

'Do you think he's changed? Look at his and Daria's relationship.' Usually, when Hermione soothed me, she caressed and kissed. We were a very intimate couple, but it was never like that when my father was the topic. She said it still made her feel dirty, and I hated that; I blamed Father for that, too.

'Let's just be thankful there isn't a dark lord he can hand her over to.'

I saw the look of shock on her face. I never bring this part of mine and my Father's history up. For the first time in so long, she held me while we discussed him; the one thing that had come between us.

'I'm sorry you went through that.' Her fingers ran through my hair, her nails scratched my scalp most gently, soothing. Her lips found mine, and I pulled her closer.

'For him, it's so much more,' I whispered.

'He stole your innocence; in a way, he violated you?'

I nodded and realised, yet again, that she forgave something that I refused to forgive. My wife was a marvel to me.

'Ew. That's just gross. Old people shouldn't snog; it's disgusting.'

I smiled at that, kissing her again. Daria's complaints were loud and excessive, and soon we laughed, and the weight was lifted. Hermione chastised Daria and I and ushered us to the Floo.

* * *

The hospital was very busy, but Hermione knew her way, and after the year visiting her grandfather, so did Daria. I followed them dutifully through the hospital corridors until we arrived at the private room that housed my father.

The room was decorated with items from home. It didn't look like a hospital room. Father was in bed, which was unusual. He always made an effort to sit in his favourite chair when we came. He didn't like to look weak.

His head rested on a plump white pillow; his face was gaunt and sallow. His frail hands held a book, it was a light volume, but you could see the strain it took for him to hold it. He wore a luscious green robe, his favourite, but it hung off of his tiny frame. He was barely even aware.

'Pop-pop!' Daria smiled and practically ran over to him. 'Can I sit on the bed with you?'

'Of course,' he said, his voice was faint and whispery. He was _very_ weak. 'Anything for my little princess.'

He just about managed to wrap a frail arm around her, and he listened intently as she told him all about Hogwarts; her classes, her grades, her friends. He complimented her and smiled. He told her how she was worth her weight in gold, if not more. I remember thinking that he had changed.

The healer called Hermione and me away. She took us to a small room on the ward and offered us coffee and biscuits. She had bad news; I knew that when I saw my father's deteriorating condition.

'He's not been able to eat or drink. He's struggling, and this means that the potions that help keep him going aren't able to be taken. The potions he needs for pain relief make him sick. I'm sorry, but we don't think your father has got much time left.'

'How long?' I asked. It sounded callous like I didn't care about more about time or about his pain or wellbeing. I cared. I'm not a monster. Hermione knew what I was thinking.

'This could be your last visit with him, Mr Malfoy. My advice is to make the most of the time you have.'

My head fell into my hands, and I felt the pain of loss again. It was just the same as the night that Severus told me that my father had tried to kill himself.

'I don't want him to die.' Those few words broke me, and my tears started to fall.

'I know, but you don't know what will happen. We might be able to get him to start eating? I can do some research on intravenous potions. I know it's not got much research behind it, but it's something that might be able to help.'

'They said it would be our last visit. Just be straight with me; don't try and make me feel better.'

I just felt her hand on my back and heard her deep breath. 'I think today is the day you speak to him.'

'Like she said, we should make the most of the time we have,' I replied. I stood up and shook off the weight and pain because I knew that this would hurt Daria, and she needed me. My pain mattered little. 'We should tell Daria. She should understand that we're saying goodbye.'

'I'll get her. You take a moment, okay?'

Being alone in that room, even though it was such a short time, it was painful. Everything that had transpired between my father and me came rushing back, but so did all the good. So did the way that he changed and turned away from prejudice. I remembered him teaching me how to ride a broom, how he had soothed me when I fell. I remembered a lot. I was barely holding on when they came back.

'What's going on? Why can't you tell me with Pop-pops?' She was frustrated and angry with us for stealing her coveted time with her grandad. It only made things worse. It made what we had to say that much harder.

'I think you should sit down, Poppet.' I tried to remain composed, but my hands trembled.

'Daddy, what's wrong?' She sat down right away, her frustration gone and in its place was fear.

'It's about Pop-pops…' I began, but it was too hard.

'Daria, Grandad is very sick, and his medicine isn't working too well, but now Grandad is struggling to take his potions.'

Daria's lip trembled. 'What do you mean?' She blinked away her tears and shook her head. My daughter was not dumb, she was smart, and she knew what Hermione was trying to say. It hurt watching her process and realise that what she had feared for so long would come true.

'The Healers have said that today might be a good day to say goodbye.'

Daria said nothing. She wouldn't even look at me.

'I'm so sorry, Poppet,' I said. I pulled everything together to be strong for her. 'I wish there was something I could do, but I can't fix this for you.'

Then she got angry, which was understandable. I just hadn't expected her to be angry with me.

'Don't say sorry! You hate Pop-pops; he doesn't deserve it. You don't spend time with him or talk to him.' Tears flowed down her face. Her nose was scrunched up in rage, and her body was tensed, hard, waiting to attack whatever she deemed was to blame.

I tried to hold her, and at first, she hit me and punched me. My father and I not getting on meant that I was to blame. I told her how much I loved our family—all of our family—and eventually, she sobbed in my arms.

'I won't lie, kiddo, things haven't been good between Pop-pops and me, but I love him. This hurts so much. I ran out of time to make it right, to forgive him, and you're right; he doesn't deserve that. We need to make sure he isn't alone, though, right?'

She cried and nodded and cried some more.

'Daria, I think Dad needs to speak with Pop-pops. How about you and me go and get some drinks and see if we can convince Grandad to eat some cake?'

I sat in the room alone for a few minutes. I knew time had officially run out. Slowly, I worked myself up to going into the room and speaking to him for the first time in about fifteen years.

The walk to the room was short. When I opened the door, his head was lolled to one side; he looked like he was sleeping, and another tear escaped.

'Father,' I said, and my voice cracked.

Slowly his head rose slightly, and his heavy lids opened. The shock that I was there, alone and speaking to him was visible. His hands trembled, and he dropped the book that he had been reading.

'Draco…' His voice was weak, barely even there.

The next words were hard to get out. Every time I tried to speak, the lump in my throat expanded until it was physically painful. More tears fell.

'I forgive you.' The lump disappeared as the words came out and suddenly, wracking sobs burst out of me. I closed the distance between us, and then I was just a kid that needed his dad.

I sat on the bed and pulled him close. I felt his frail arms wrap around me; I felt them try to make me feel safe; the same way I tried to make Daria feel safe.

Father said nothing. I felt his chest heave with the weight of his sobs. I felt the tears that ran down his face on my cheek. I didn't let go.

Eventually, Daria and Hermione arrived. Daria stole my spot on the bed, which was fine by me. She told Grandad he had to hold on as long as he could.

'I've been holding on for some time, Poppet,' he said, and then he looked at me. 'I think I can go in peace now. That's okay; you know that, right? It's sad to lose someone, but you have to make sure you hold on to those that are left behind with you. Cherish them, okay, Poppet.'

We sat there talking for a while, and slowly but surely Lucius drifted in and out of consciousness. He had held on as long as he could. I believed he held on for me.

We stayed there throughout the evening. Eventually, we watched Lucius' chest rise and fall. His breathing slowed, and Hermione checked his vitals. We knew he was slowly passing away.

I held his hand until the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A final thank you to the reviewers that have been here with me for this journey. I have thoroughly enjoyed this story.
> 
> I am certainly a Dramione convert, and while I enjoyed the Lumione parts, I don't think it's one I would do again. This story has taught me a lot, and so have you wonderful reviewers. You showed me what worked in this story and made me think about the things that didn't.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thank you for reading, please review.


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